Undercover
by MiladyGirl
Summary: Rossi and Blake are on an undercover assignment, posing as a married couple. As much as they try to stay professional, their mutual attraction begins to surface...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**

I have no excuse for this whatsoever. And I have no excuse for diving into this one when I still have other fics in progress, but I will pick them up, I promise.

I am _so_ bad at writing hetero fics, and I have never had a relationship with a man - in any aspect of the word - so I apologise fiercely for everything I get backwards, but these two are too funny to write to avoid because of personal inexperience. Also, I know undercover work is _mainly_ done by police and not FBI, but if they can do canon it in the X-files, then I can fanfictionalise it in Criminal Minds.

Later chapters are likely to become M-rated, given that I'm able to pull that off. LOL

It's written tongue-in-cheek, so don't take it too seriously. Enjoy!

* * *

"Mrs Luanne 'Lulu' Cambers Santangelo?" Blake said and put her undercover identity papers down with a look of slight disgust on her face. "That sounds like a character out of a Jackie Collins novel."

"Does anybody still _read_ Jackie Collins?"

"I'm just saying, it's so over the top people will notice."

"I agree. My name sounds like a mobster. Hotch, this won't work. We're supposed to blend in at this upper middle class suburban neighbourhood, we can't afford _anything_ that sticks out." He gave Blake a playful glance. "Though Lulu would be a cute name on you."

"Listen here, Mister Sicilian Cartel," she began but Hotch cut in.

"You're right, ID department have to change the names. How about Richard and Angela Moore. Angela born Campbell. Is that good?"

"I can work with that," Blake said and shrugged. Then she couldn't help throwing a dagger in Rossi's direction. " _Richie_."

"I was thinking of a nickname more along the lines of Big Rick," Rossi said. Blake opened her mouth to deliver a scathing reply, but Hotch once more interfered.

"Not a word, Alex. Dave, careful. You can't divorce this wife as easily as you divorced your previous three, so don't start your marriage by annoying her."

Blake raised her eyebrows.

"You heard the man."

Rossi shook his head, smiling a little.

"My apologies, _Angela_."

"Apology accepted, _Richie_."

JJ turned to Morgan and mouthed;

"They sure _sound_ like a married couple already."

Morgan nodded and grinned.

"They've been eyeing each other for months, if playing married won't get them together, nothing will."

* * *

"So, here it is, our new home. For the next four months or so at least," Rossi stated as they parked outside the house the FBI had gotten for the undercover assignment. "Looks kind of nice. Never thought I'd live in the suburbs though."

"I almost said it must be quieter than living in the city, but then I recalled the reason we're here," Alex sighed and unbuckled her seat belt. "Will you carry me across the threshold?"

"I thought you were a modern woman."

She elbowed him in the ribs, and not particularly gently either.

"I was just kidding. Also, I'm not as heavy as the tone of your voice implied. Oh, before we step out of this car and into character, there are a few things we probably should go through. I mean, we're going to live together more or less 24/7. So, to avoid any nasty surprises, here goes: I'm not a morning person. Serving coffee, no questions asked, may save your life before 10 am. According to witnesses, I snore. I talk to myself. I never wear makeup on weekends. And I snack. A lot."

He chuckled, but Alex didn't flinch.

"I'm serious. The moment I leave the job, I snack. Everything I can get my hands on. Cookies, popcorn, cheesecake, peanuts, Skittles, sunflower seeds…"

" _Sunflower seeds?_ _"_

"My point is, just make sure you never take the last of anything edible, and it's all gonna be fine. That's pretty much it. Any quirks I need to know about you?"

"Well… I never put the toilet seat down."

She opened her jacket just enough to give him a quick glimpse of her gun.

"Yes, you do."

"Yes, I do," he repeated, eyes wide and disbelieving. _God, who knew Alex could be so bossy?_

"Good boy."

She stepped out of the car and began walking towards the house. He called out after her;

"Hey, did you speak to James like that?"

"Didn't have to, he was potty trained!" she shot back over her shoulder. Dave snorted and looked up to the sky, as if asking for divine strength.

 _What have I gotten myself into?_


	2. Chapter 2

Alex strode into the living room, carrying a box, and stopped mid-step, staring at Rossi who stood on the couch. At least he had taken his shoes off, which she noticed before she began yelling at him, but she was still annoyed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm… putting up drapes? You know, to make sure our neighbours won't see in…?"

"I can see that. Rossi, the wallpaper is apricot. The drapes you're holding, which by the way I hope to God you didn't pay money for, are not only too small for this window, they're also Princeton orange."

"You're not making any sense at all, Alex," he said and stepped down onto the floor. "Could you do me a favour and speak without linguistic riddles?"

"I don't speak in riddles, those are names of colours, and they do not match!" She threw her arms out in a gesture that said _I give up_. "Are you colour-blind?!"

"No…?"

"It gets too loud, okay? Go with coffee and cream instead."

Rossi gave her a weird look.

"You're kidding me, right? You want me to splash my drink on the curtain?"

"No, my dear, beloved, interior-design-impaired husband, I want you to go back to the store and buy curtains that matches the wallpaper and all the cream-colored furniture. Got it? Good. Get going," she said.

"I have helped building houses with my bare hands," he said.

"Yeah, and probably decorating rooms with your eyes closed," she snapped.

"Wow, you really nail the wife-part," he grunted. "Were you like this with James?"

"You seem to have an unhealthy obsession with my ex-husband. No, I was not. You know why? He was never home long enough to get on my nerves."

"I should just live alone and write books," Rossi muttered.

"You took the words right out of my mouth," Blake said with a deep sigh and sat down on the couch. "Look, I'm really bad at this whole living so close in on each other. It's… suffocating for me, I'm not used to it. It's not your fault." She tugged at the orange drapes and let out a quick laugh. "Well, when you bring home this crap it _is_ your fault."

He said nothing, he merely looked at her. A ray of sun painted her dark hair in shades of gold and copper, and with that laughter still present in her eyes, he could see what she must have looked like in her twenties. She looked precisely like the type of woman he would have married when _he_ was that age. Those large, dark eyes, all that thick shiny hair, her full lips that seemed to be made for kissing...

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said and shook his head to clear it of his inappropriate thoughts. But what had been seen could not be unseen, and suddenly he realised just how beautiful his colleague was. "Wouldn't it look more probable if you came with me? So we could have this whole drape and wallpaper discussion in public; it would probably endorse the idea of us being married."

He held out his hand. Alex rolled her eyes, then smiled and took it.

"Well, you're probably right. Let me just go and put on a jacket," she said and gave him a quick pat on his arm.

"Love you, sweetheart!" he called out after her.

"You'd better!" she called back, but that was just playing her character to conceal the fact that something inside her had wanted nothing else than pulling him down onto those god-awful drapes and make love to him. That wasn't quite as far as the charade was supposed to go, and she had been confident that she could pull this off, but the sensation of David Rossi's eyes upon her, like soft fingers tracing down her body, threatened to ruin her façade.

 _I want him_ , she admitted to herself. _God, I hope this is some kind of combination between the Stockholm syndrome and cabin fever. Attraction to the people you are stuck with. You are attracted to those you're familiar with. Yeah. There is definitely a psychological reason for this and I am just going to play the part and pretend nothing else is going on. Yeah, okay. Because that is how Alex Blake deals with emotions._

But right now she wasn't all Alex Blake anymore, was she? She was supposed to be Angela Moore for at least four months. Possibly more. It all depended on when the unsub would decide to rear his head and start leaving those notes that the other couples had received before being abducted and killed.

 _I have a job to do, and I'm not going to let my own confusion interfere._

That was the first thought. But it was overrode by a much more primal one.

 _I want him all over me._

* * *

 **A/N**

Yeah, maybe I was unclear. James refers to Blake's husband, who is her ex-husband in this one. Blake and Rossi are both divorced, which is the reason they got the assignment; no close family. I'll have you know I toyed with the idea of pairing up Blake and Hotch for the assignment, but to me, they're too much alike so it would be like writing the male and female side of the same person. LOL

Thank you everyone for your sweet reviews! I wasn't going to post this chapter yet, but I had too much fun with it so, what the hell. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

"We could have hired interior decorators, you know," Rossi said once they were back in the car. "I would have paid for it if the Bureau wouldn't."

"We already have all the furniture, the wallpapers are new, all we need to put in some effort on are drapes, rugs, tablecloths…"

Rossi's eyes glazed over with complete disinterest. _Men_ , Blake thought. _They_ _'_ _re all the same._

"Towels, bedcovers, sheets…"

The uninterested look in his eyes had vanished by the last two words, but it was still distant. Alex fell silent for a moment, leaving him alone with his happy thoughts, and tried not to let her amusement shine through.

"I take it you have servants picking up that stuff for you at home," she said.

"Aw, knock it off, Alex. I don't have _servants_. I have _employees_. And yes, if you must know, there are interior decorators on my payroll."

"But don't you take pleasure in picking out something yourself, finding that one item that just ties the whole room together?"

"I never thought of you as…" _shit, there is no way of finishing this sentence without sounding like a pig in one way or the other. I can_ _'_ _t think straight around this woman at all; and that is a first for me._

"Feminine?" Alex asked. "Is it a female-only trait, wanting a part in making your home environment look nice?"

"I meant to say home-maker."

"Yeah, right."

"I don't wanna argue with you."

"I'm not arguing, I'm just curious."

"I thought those, whatever you called them, Cambridge orange ones looked fine."

"Princeton orange," Alex corrected him and laughed. "Yeah, it's a nice shade. But it clashes with apricot. You would have noticed once they were up. Even if you didn't consciously realised, it would be one of those moments when you feel uneasy in a room but you can't quite put your finger on why. Clashing colours are extremely unsettling to the human mind."

"I feel like I should have known that, being a profiler and all," Dave said. Alex smiled a little.

"Well, nobody's perfect."

 _You come pretty damn close though_ , Dave thought and hoped he hadn't spoken out loud, but the look on Alex's face hadn't changed. He heaved a quiet sigh of relief and focused on the road. He strongly suspected that he knew what the fluttery feeling in his stomach was, and an infatuation was not exactly what he needed right now.

* * *

As it turned out, shopping with Alex wasn't anywhere near as draining as it had been shopping with either of his real wives. When he felt himself starting to slip into boredom-induced catatonia, Alex gave his shoulder a pat that felt suspiciously like a smack.

"Wake up. Let's grab two sets of bed sheets each, then I race you to the checkout lines!"

"Tag, you're it," he murmured, but couldn't help grinning.

When he caught up with her she tilted her head to the side and gave him another one of those stunning smiles.

"You're really slow, _Richie_ , aren't you?"

"Watch it, Angie."

The cashier looked amused at this childish behaviour in people who, to her twenty-ish eyes, seemed to be about two generations younger than the dinosaurs.

"You guys new in town?" she asked. "I mean, I know most of the locals, and I haven't seen you before."

"Yeah, we are. We're just moving in on Laurel Street."

"Whoa, I take it you're not superstitious then."

Alex looked like the picture of incomprehension. If Rossi hadn't known it was acted, he would have believed it was real. Hell, even though he _knew_ it was acted he almost believed it was real.

"Why, what do you mean?"

"People have been killed in that house. Not just once. It's like the place is haunted or something, like that house in Amityville…"

"Well, I don't believe in ghosts," Alex said with a smile. "And even if I did, I hardly think they'd go around killing people."

"You're not afraid, at all?"

"Angela is a tough broad. I'm the one who sleeps with a nightlight," Rossi said.

The girl giggled and tried to conceal it. Alex shrugged, still smiling.

"I thought he'd grow out of it eventually. Twenty-six years later, I'm still waiting."

The girl rang up the total and Alex aimed the smile at him.

"Honey…?"

"Yeah, I've got it," he said and hauled out his wallet. "You don't by any chance know any good restaurant around here? We still got most of our kitchen utensils in boxes and frankly I don't even know where those boxes are…"

"You would if you had carried them inside, dear," Alex said sweetly. The girl giggled again. That was good. She had now accepted them as a nice but rather corny, possibly not too smart, over the hill couple.

"Nathan's is a pretty nice place. Of course there's the Gilded Cage as well, if you want to celebrate something. Many couples celebrate their anniversaries and stuff like that there. It's way more expensive than Nathan's, but, I guess, what's the point of having money if you're not going to show it off?"

She looked momentarily worried, as if she had said too much. Alex thought this was _very_ interesting.

"Nathan's sounds good to me. Thank you…?"

"Gina."

"Gina. I'm Angela Moore and this is my husband…" for a moment she forgot his undercover name, but Rossi didn't miss a beat;

"Richard. Nice to meet you and thanks for the restaurant advice."

He put an arm around Alex's shoulder and helped her carry the bags. The girl looked after them, smiling a little.

 _I wish I_ _'_ _ll be that much in love with my husband when we grow old_ , she thought. Though these two seemed like total dorks, of course. But that was kind of adorable in its own way, she supposed.

* * *

"The Gilded Cage," Alex pondered as they put on their seat belts. "Interesting name for a restaurant. Luxury with no freedom. It could be a coincidence of course, but all of our victims had celebrated something - an anniversary, a birthday, a job promotion, within two weeks before their murders."

"And how often is a coincidence really a coincidence?" Rossi remarked. Blake looked him straight in the eyes.

"In this job? Never."

"Which is why we're going to Nathan's tonight. We've just bought new drapes, ones that even matches the wallpaper, I don't want us to get killed before we've had the time to fully enjoy them," Rossi said in a slightly sarcastic tone and winked at her, upon which her imagination made a sudden sidestep into the dirty, and delivered a detailed image of sweaty, intense lovemaking only concealed from the outside world by said drapes. She nearly choked. It was definitely not like her to have thoughts like that.

Okay, it wasn't that _common_ for her to have thoughts like that, at least.

* * *

 **A/N**

I go with the flow as long as the muse delivers it. I may be tied up next week, but I'll update again (this and other stories I work on) whenever I can. I love your reviews people, thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoy it, and I love it when you specify what it is about it that you do like. Makes it easier for me to know what to focus on ahead. So… keep it coming, and… thank you! 3

Also, the restaurants are completely made up from the depths of weirdness that is my imagination, along with the plot and all OC's.


	4. Chapter 4

"You have to admit these drapes look much better," Alex said a couple of hours later. Dave rolled his eyes.

"Okay, you were right. Now that you have colour-matched everything in the house, may I take you out to dinner? I for one am _starving_."

Alex opened her mouth to talk back, but realised that she was hungry, too.

"Okay. Let me change first, and I'll be right back."

He sighed. When a woman said she was going to change into other clothes, it could take hours before she was ready. He thought about frying a burger while he waited, but decided that she might take that the wrong way.

In any case it didn't matter; Alex was ready in five minutes. Clearly she was one of those rare but gifted women who could honestly say "I just threw something on" and still look great. And now she caught him staring.

"What?"

"Nothing. You're beautiful."

She smiled and leaned towards him, giving him possibly the flirtiest glance he had ever seen.

"I bet you say that to all the girls," she said in a throaty, breathy voice and gave him a slow wink, rendering him speechless. She seemed to find this highly amusing, before suddenly going all businesslike. "Hand over the keys, I'm driving."

This sudden change in demeanour was a desperate attempt from her side to hide her attraction from leaping forward and take control of the situation. The prospect of being rejected was bad enough, but behaving inappropriate to the point where she'd make her colleague truly uncomfortable was worse.

Rossi handed over the car keys in a daze. It was probably a good thing he wasn't going to drive. Not if Blake was going to look like the sin you'd never dare trying and speak in that husky voice that seemed to belong in a bedroom.

* * *

"This is nice," Alex said and looked around the restaurant. The atmosphere was a bit too homey to be labelled as romantic, but it was in the neighbourhood.

"It is," Rossi agreed. He had managed to compose himself in the car. Discussing the victims and the few case clues had helped.

A waiter showed up, handed them menus and asked them if they wanted something to drink.

"I'll have a dry Martini," Alex said.

"Good choice. I'll have the same," Dave agreed. "Two Martinis please, and we'll order in a while."

He looked at her looking at the menu, his eyes lingering at her mouth. She had amazing lips. He wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss them, and had to force himself to stop thinking about it. This was not the time nor the place for such thoughts.

The drinks arrived and they ordered their food, which turned out to be delicious.

"I'm curious," Rossi said in the middle of the meal. "Why did you split up?"

"Not in character," she warned him in a quiet voice.

"I know. Why?"

"Work."

"Yours or his?"

"Mine, incredibly enough. Can you believe it? The man is out of the country for five months out of every year, but _my_ job was the final straw. Oh, well. Good riddance to him. Why are you so curious about him anyway?"

 _Because I don_ _'_ _t want to make the same mistake he made_ , Rossi thought, but what he said out loud was;

"I'm not. Dessert?"

"Need you ask?"

"Of course. I'm a gentleman."

When she laughed, he had to tell himself firmly to keep it in his pants. This was a job, not a romantic getaway, and they did _not_ need to complicate things by adding attraction or emotions into the mix.

* * *

It was only two days later when he came home from the office he rented as a façade, and found Alex laying on the couch with a blanket pulled up to her chin.

"Hey, how are you?"

Alex looked up, wide-eyed as if she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.

"Fine. I'm fine," she said, but Dave didn't buy that. She was too pale, with dark circles around her eyes and a fine layer of sweat on her forehead.

"You look like you have a fever," he said. "Are you sick?"

"It's just cramps," she muttered. The surprise on his face almost made her laugh. "What? I'm not too old for that yet." She winced and rubbed her abdomen with one hand. "Unfortunately."

"I didn't say you were," he said.

"I know this is asking a lot, and trust me, it's embarrassing enough to ask, but could you…"

"Go to the store and buy tampons?

Alex blushed and nodded.

"Sure, I'll go right away. Do you need chocolate?"

She smiled. Not "do you _want_ chocolate", but "do you _need_ chocolate".

"Yes please."

"Painkillers?"

"I've already taken some."

He frowned. "Could have fooled me."

She gave him a pale ghost of a smile and closed her eyes. He lingered a few moments, wishing he could do something extra to comfort her, but eventually settled for doing what she had asked him to. It wasn't exactly the first time he had bought tampons for a wife, and it didn't bother him half as much as it had bothered Alex to ask him. What did bother him was seeing her suffer.

* * *

When he returned, Alex was asleep, but she woke up when he carefully set the requested objects down on the couch table. She looked even worse than she had when he left.

"Oh, Alex. Why don't you go to bed instead? It must be more comfortable than the couch anyway," he said and expected her to protest, but instead she very slowly got to her feet. She was shivering, and he grabbed the blanket she had left on the couch, swept it around her and put an arm around her waist to steady her.

"I'm okay, really," she said, but even her own voice lacked conviction.

"Don't give me that stoic crap right now, please," he said. "You're not okay."

"No, I'm not," she admitted and leaned her head against his shoulder and allowed him to lead her to her bedroom. She collapsed on the bed, curled up into a ball and whimpered in pain.

"Do you want me to wake you in time for dinner or should I just let you sleep?" He shook his head. "Scratch that. Just call me if you need anything. Anything at all."

She nodded, still embarrassed but grateful at the same time. She certainly wasn't spoiled with anyone taking care of her, and she had to admit that it felt… kind of nice for a change. Her cramps weren't always this bad, but it did happen from time to time, and when it did she felt like she was going to die. James had had little to no sympathy for her; he had once told her that if her prescription drugs didn't help, then it was probably psychosomatic. Always the firm believer in the wonder of modern medicine, but his bedside manner left a lot to desire, Alex thought with a scoff.

* * *

Dave checked on her an hour later and found that she seemed even worse.

"Do you want me to call a doctor?" he asked.

"No," she said. Then she thought, _oh, hell, whatever, I_ _'_ _m entitled to a little comfort right now_. "Just hold me."

He raised his eyebrows.

"You sure?"

She only kept looking at him with pain-glassy brown eyes, which convinced him more than words could. He crawled up next to her and put his arms around her from behind, taking care not to touch her breasts. Not only because he didn't want to seem like a creep taking advantage of the situation, but also because he knew from all his three wives that they felt tender and sore. Apparently he did the right thing, as Alex's body relaxed against his.

"Better?" he whispered.

"Mmhmm."

She was already half-asleep again, and he found to his surprise that he was about to doze off himself. It felt good to hold a woman in his arms again. Though he hadn't planned for that woman to be Alex Blake. Nor that she would be in pain. But it made sense in some wicked kind of way; the only reason Blake would allow anyone close would be if her defences were already down.

She let out a light snore and cuddled up even closer to him.

This was _definitely_ touching up the line between friendship and something more.

* * *

 **A/N**

Thank you my awesome readers for your support and your reviews, you make me smile! Well. Grin like a maniac is more like it really, but what you can't see won't hurt you. :P

I couldn't sleep last night so I decided to write a little more on this before next week hits. Mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort stuff, because I felt like it. Purr, purr.


	5. Chapter 5

"Someone's feeling better today," Rossi remarked a few days later when he found her up and about, rummaging in the kitchen.

"Yeah, it never lasts long, it's just…" she cleared her throat. "Sorry I've been a whiny mess the past few days. It's almost never that bad."

"You don't need to apologise for feeling ill," he said. "I understand. Can't say I know _how_ you feel, obviously, but I do understand _that_ you feel like crap."

"It's kind of embarrassing is all, I'm not used to playing the damsel in distress-part," she said.

"Well, if it's of any consolation, that's a part that doesn't become you anyway," Rossi replied. He sounded like he was joking and being serious at the same time. She nodded solemnly.

"It _is_ consolation. Thank you."

He waved it off.

"I've seen you take a bullet without flinching. Practically had to force you to show the wound to the paramedics. I _know_ you're not a damsel in distress-kind of woman. Have you seen a doctor about this?"

"Oh please." She looked at him, realising he wouldn't let her shake the topic the way most men would, happy to keep pretending this wasn't a monthly reality to most women alive. She sighed. "I did. A couple of years ago. He said it was nothing."

"Yeah, I've seen you the past few days, that's not nothing."

"Nothing to _worry_ about," she clarified. "I got some prescription drugs and that's that."

"And those help?"

She avoided looking into his eyes when she replied. "Sometimes."

Before he could push the matter she turned back towards the kitchen counter.

"Since we're on the subject of gender stereotypes, I'm playing the good housewife today and just made homemade potato salad. Like my mom used to do it. Well, she was way better at cooking than I am, but still… also, here's the masterpiece."

She held out two marinated and perfectly marbled steaks for him to admire.

"Masterpiece, huh? You don't hold back."

"Don't need to. I'm great with BBQ. It's part of my heritage."

"Your _heritage_?"

"Well, I'm from Missouri, which means I'm practically from the South, and nobody can do BBQ like Southerners."

"Isn't that a little prejudiced?"

"Don't you consider yourself a little bit better at making pasta sauce than any American just because of your Italian background?" she retorted. He was about to respond as if it was a real argument, when he saw the twinkle in her eyes and realised that she was just teasing him.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I'm not saying that I don't," she replied innocently. He chuckled.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said and reached for the steaks.

"Hands off my meat, Dave, I've got this. You can grab two beers and come out with me," she said and walked past him, heading towards the backyard.

 _Hands off her meat, huh? Oh no, no, no, don't even go there_ , he said to himself, opened the fridge and took out two bottles of beer, and followed her outside. It was kind of difficult to keep the balance and be interested in her while pretending to be an uninterested colleague pretending to be devoted husband. His head spun simply from sorting it out to himself. He wondered where Alex stood. Everything seemed to be much easier for her; she had an impressive ability to cut off her emotional response when it wasn't needed.

* * *

 _Hands off my meat, huh_? Alex thought and mentally shook her head as she put the steaks down next to the lit BBQ. _That was so bad it was almost funny. This charade is getting ridiculous, and impossible to keep up. I have no idea if I'm still playing a character of if it's real. I'm so confused._

Dave handed her a beer and tried not to look at her smooth, long legs. He had never seen her in shorts before, but it was certainly a sight worth waiting for.

 _Damnit_ , he thought. _Am I Richard Moore admiring his wife's legs, or David Rossi's creepy side ogling his colleague's body? I hate this undercover shit, I always did. I have no idea why I accepted to do this in the first place._

But he knew the reason. She stood right before him in khaki shorts, a black tank top and a well used baseball cap. And he suspected that he was falling in love with her under any name.

"You know what?" she said in a low voice.

"What?"

"Our next door neighbour is watching us over the fence, so now would be a perfect time for you to give me a kiss on the cheek."

"Yes ma'am," he said and leaned forward to do so, sending a grateful thought to their spying neighbour. Alex closed her eyes and felt shivers run down her spine as his beard - much softer than it looked - brushed against her skin. She had noticed him admiring her legs and was suddenly struck by a desperate desire to embrace him… _with_ said legs. And if she wasn't mistaken, there was at least a certain part of him that probably agreed that it would be a good idea.

 _What a mess this turned out to be_ , she thought as he pulled back a little, then looked her in the eyes and almost kissed her again, on the mouth this time. If he had, she would have let him. Not only that; she would have kissed him back fiercely. But he only smiled and said;

"I'll go and get the potato salad and the rest."

 _I'm going to strangle Hotch for talking us into this,_ Blake thought with a petty, almost childish frustration that was very unlike her. _At least if we had been in our real lives I would have known if Dave's interest is genuine or acted._ _And if_ mine _is._

She drank some beer.

 _We'd better get a lead on this case soon, because I don't know how long I can do this before I simply jump him and put everything, including my reputation, at risk._

* * *

 **A/N**

Tehe, did anyone else notice that Alex's interest is mainly physical while Dave seems to be more emotionally invested, no matter how much he stares at her legs? That wasn't really how I thought it would play out, but I guess she's frustrated. I think there will be some smut - not too graphic, but a little bit - in next chapter, but I'm not 100 % sure. They're better at holding back than I expected. :P

And please bear with me, I made the mistake of starting too many fics - original and fanfics alike - at once, and I have some life responsibilities now and then as well. I _will_ finish all my fics, but I can't set a date for either of them. It's extremely flattering that so many of you like to read them, though, so I constantly feel a little guilty for taking my time. But… I'm not one of those who work well under too much pressure, so let's try and keep it a happy experience for everyone involved, shall we? Cookies all around! ;)


	6. Chapter 6

"This might be the best meat I've ever had," Rossi said and immediately wanted to take it back. He really had his mind set on naughty thoughts today, it seemed. But who could blame him?

 _Alex, that's who_ , he thought. But she only smiled at him.

"Thank you. I told you I'm good at this."

"So you did. Practically Southern."

"Practically," she agreed and leaned back in the chair with a content look on her face. She crossed her legs and felt his eyes upon her again. She smiled and grabbed her beer. She was starting to feel its effect; she wasn't exactly tipsy, but she definitely felt the alcohol messing with her head. Or perhaps it wasn't the alcohol as much as her confused emotions. What she did know was that she hadn't felt this good in quite some time. The only thing that would make this moment nicer was a cigarette, but she had given those up years ago.

Well, there was _something_ else that could have made this moment nicer, but she supposed she had to settle for what she already had.

"We need to discuss this case," Dave said, tearing his eyes away from her legs. When was the last time a woman made him feel this way? Erin Strauss had, but with her it had started with sex. Just sex. The tenderness had come later. In this case, he suspected that tenderness was all there was to be. Not that he had the right to ask for anything more, he should be grateful that he had the chance to make Alex feel better when she felt so bad the past few days.

"I agree," she said. "Ugh, I ate so much I have to unbutton my shorts before they burst," she added and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and made a gesture in her direction.

"Feel free to."

She shook her head, grinning.

"Well, I told you I snack."

"This wasn't snacking, this was feasting," he said, still chuckling. He liked a woman with an appetite, especially if she didn't feel the need to apologise for it. He wondered for a moment if her appetite was equally good when it came to other things.

"Yeah, it was," she said as she unbuttoned her shorts and pulled the tank top down to hide it. But before she did he caught a moment's glimpse of her panties. White lace. Come on, lace underneath such tomboyish shorts? This woman was an enigma.

The enigma heaved a sigh of relief. "So. On topic. What do we know so far?"

How was it possible for this woman to be so businesslike whenever she needed to be? God, he admired her. He had always considered himself good at keeping things businesslike when necessary, but this undercover assignment was really testing this ability of his. He abandoned his personal musings and began focusing on the case.

"We know that three couples have been murdered in this house in the past fifteen years. We know that they were all wealthy middle-aged couples. We know that within two weeks before all murders they visited that restaurant with a name like a strip club to celebrate something."

"And we do know that the wife was tied to a chair and forced to watch her husband being beaten to death with a blunt object, before our unsub cut her throat with a knife. In the last case, the wife was raped before she was killed," Alex said. There was not a hint in her voice suggesting that she was worried over the fact that they were now the bait for this unsub.

"Not everyone who lived in the house were murdered though. A young couple lived there for a few years between the second and third murdered couples. They moved out when the husband was transferred to an office in a different state," Dave said. "They currently live in Arizona, with a five-year-old and a second kid on the way, and report that they never experienced anything unpleasant or out of the ordinary in their time here."

"Hm," Alex said and finished her beer. "Did they ever go to the Gilded Cage?"

"Yes. About a week before moving. To celebrate the new job."

"So basically we're not one step closer to finding our unsub."

"Nope," he sighed and got to his feet. "I'll clear the table. Thank you. Everything was delicious." Then he placed a quick kiss on her cheek, right next to her mouth. She looked at him, surprised. He smiled, gathered the things and left.

Alex stayed seated, mainly because she didn't think her legs would carry her if she tried to stand up. Her skin burned where his lips had brushed against it. Her stomach fluttered.

 _It was just acting, for heaven's sake_ , she told herself. _Calm down, Alex. Your hormones will get you into trouble sooner or later; you're like a horny teenager. You can't go around preying on your colleague who's just playing his part._

Unbeknownst to her, David Rossi was mentally whacking himself over the head for his pushy move.

 _You can't go around kissing her just like that, she needs to be in on it. You stupid ass_ , he thought and sighed, not knowing that if there was one thing agent Blake most definitely was, it was "in on it".

* * *

Neither of them might have acted on their mutual attraction if Alex hadn't forgotten to put on her bathrobe after she showered that evening.

They had separate bedrooms, and Alex's was closer to the bathroom. After she finished showering, she always put on her bathrobe over her nightgown, but today, for whatever reason, she didn't bother. And yes, perhaps the silk nightgown was too short for a woman her age, but it wasn't like she planned on parading down Main Street in it for everyone to see. She was just going to walk the ten steps or so to her bedroom and close the door behind her.

But this evening, Dave chose this very moment to head for the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed, thinking she was done already. And so they ended up running into each other right outside the bathroom door. He stopped in his tracks the moment he laid eyes on her. The pale, steely-blue silk made it look like she was dressed in moonlight. _Scantily_ dressed in moonlight. Not only did he see much more of her legs than he had earlier, he was also treated to a lovely view of her cleavage.

He was vaguely aware that he was gaping, and that it probably wasn't very gentlemanly of him, but he couldn't help himself. He wondered if she was wearing lace panties under that…

Too late he realised that these thoughts manifested themselves in a very embarrassing physical reaction. Alex looked at him, then lowered her gaze to his midsection, and smiled. No. She _grinned_.

"Oh dear. You flatterer," she purred.

"I, uh, apologise," he said, but a certain part of him did not apologise. Not at all. Alex slowly closed the distance between them, and the grin had disappeared. She looked very serious.

"Please don't," she murmured. "I really am flattered. It's been way too long since I was the reason for that kind of reaction."

"You must be kidding me," he said. "You are a very attractive woman."

"And you are a very handsome man," she replied in that husky voice that drove him crazy, then leaned in to kiss him. "Please don't make me wait any longer," she said and grabbed his belt with both hands, pulling him up against her body. He resisted for a moment, but her touch and her scent were intoxicating, irresistible.

"Oh, Alex," he moaned as he ran his hands down to the small of her back, feeling her body heat through the thin silk fabric. To his amusement, he felt like he was about to explode; it was like being nineteen years old all over again.

"Bedroom," Alex panted. "Now. Either that or take me against the wall right here!"

She knew that she sounded aggressive, and she supposed that was exactly what she was. She hadn't had sex in almost a year, and while she was rather skilled with her own fingers - not to mention certain vibrators - nothing was as satisfying as sex with another person. She suspected that the fact that her marriage had been a lonely one, with James working overseas much of the time, and her own job requiring a lot of travel as well, was part of her almost desperate need to be close to someone. Not just for sex, although her body clearly demanded to have its needs taken care of before she was allowed to think about the emotional side of things.

Dave kissed her fervently, his erection pressing against her - _oh my, he's a big boy_ , she thought - as they made their way towards the bedroom, somehow in the process managing to knock a painting down from the wall.

"We're wrecking the house," Dave remarked breathlessly.

"I'd rather you wreck _me_ ," Alex growled.

"Really?" he replied as he straddled her and pinned her wrists to the bed while he kissed his way from her neck, down to her breasts… his tongue played with her nipples, sending waves of burning pleasure through her body. She whimpered and writhed on the sheets. He let one hand slid in underneath her nightgown and found that she didn't actually wear lace panties… there was no fabric at all between his eager, exploring hand and her slick wetness. "Oh my God Alex," he moaned. "You never cease to surprise me."

"I aim to please," she panted and spread her legs, allowing him full access to her, and his response was immediate. He was over her, _inside_ of her, and when he filled her, she had to bite back a sob. This was more than mere sex, this was reconnecting with humanity. Lately she had felt like she didn't belong anywhere; not quite an outcast, but somewhat closed off to the rest of the world. Dave's obvious interest was an antidote to that feeling, and as if that wasn't enough, the man was a formidable lover. He knew precisely every move to give her the most pleasure, and it was so intense she felt tears run down her cheeks. She would lose control any moment; it was ridiculous how sensitive her body was to his… attentions. Her breathing came in shallow, whimpering gasps, and every nerve-ending felt like it was on fire.

Then the orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her back arched and she threw her head back so that her sweaty hair cascaded over the pillows.

"Oh GOD!"

Upon seeing Alex Blake crying out in a powerful orgasm, Dave could no longer hold back his own climax. The most intense orgasm he had experienced for decades shook his body, and he cried out her name over and over again, as he collapsed on top of her, panting. His heart was racing, and he could feel her rapid pulse against his ribcage. It was almost enough to get him going again.

 _What is it about this woman?_ , he wondered as he kissed her.

"You are amazing," he whispered.

"You…" she was so out of breath she could barely speak. "You aren't too bad… yourself…"

He slowly rolled over so he was next to her instead, and she immediately curled up against his chest. They fell asleep like that, exhausted and satisfied in each other's arms, both enjoying the musky scent of their lovemaking, neither regretting their actions.

* * *

 **A/N**

Yeah… well… I told you. Please be nice. I don't usually do hetero at all, okay? *blushes and goes into hiding*


	7. Chapter 7

When David Rossi woke up the next morning, he blinked in surprise a couple of times, then almost began to laugh.

 _Guess she wasn't kidding about the snoring._

Gently, so not to wake her - though if she didn't wake _herself_ up he doubted it was an easy task to rouse agent Blake from her sleep - he untangled his limbs from hers and got out of bed. He was sore from last night's escapades; surprisingly so, given that he had thought he was in pretty good shape.

Alex rolled over on her side, fell silent, and hugged one of the pillows tightly. He looked at her for a while, allowing himself to truly feel what he had been denying for almost a year now. Yes, he was attracted to her. Yes, he was falling in love with her. Yes, he was terrified of going into a new relationship, especially with a colleague. But… there was something very special about Alex and there was no way he was going to waste this chance.

 _She looks younger when she's asleep. And vulnerable. Almost fragile, in fact. Cute yet graceful, like a kitten._

As if on cue, Alex rolled over on her back again, both arms to the sides, and let out a huge, _very_ unladylike snore. He chuckled quietly and left the bedroom.

* * *

When he returned, she was stirring, on the verge of waking up.

"Good morning, bella," he said in a soft voice. "Since it's before 10 am, I brought coffee as a peace offering."

Alex opened her eyes and looked at him. Then the memory of last night came crashing down on her and she blushed fiercely. "Oh God," she murmured and hid her face in her hands. "Should I apologise? I probably should. I was an animal."

"You were… frisky," he said, grinning as he put the coffee down on the nightstand and sat down on the bed. He reached out and gently removed her hands from her face. "Don't hide that pretty face. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Last night was…" he searched for words but none seemed to fit what he wanted to say. Eventually he settled for the meek "very nice", which made the linguist laugh in spite of her embarrassment.

"You do know that the origin of 'nice' is a 12th century word that means 'foolish' or 'stupid', right?" she said. He chuckled.

"Okay, so it wasn't 'nice'. How about amazing?"

"Yeah, I can't remember the origin of that right now, so we'll run with it."

She yawned and reached for the coffee. He suspected that she did it to escape eye contact, and that wasn't good. But once she had taken a sip and put the cup back on the nightstand, she reluctantly looked at him again.

"I guess we need to talk about what this means."

"I guess so. Though I'm not sure what there is to say. I'm crazy about you, Alex."

"Are you sure this isn't just some weird reaction to the whole undercover thing? Some kind of, I don't know, psychological reaction to what is, essentially, role-play?" she asked, sounding uncharacteristically shy.

"I wondered at first," he admitted. "But I think the only thing it did - for me at least - was offering an outlet for something that's been building for quite some time."

She looked relieved.

"That's exactly how I feel. I think I'm falling in love with you, Dave."

The surprise in her voice made him laugh.

"Is that so shell shocking?" he teased.

"No, no, I didn't mean it that way, I just… it's been a long time since I felt like this. I guess I had forgotten what it's like. It's… puzzling. Wonderful, but puzzling."

"I told myself after Erin died that I would never feel this way again. And now that I do… I'm afraid, Alex. I'd like to call off this assignment."

Her jaw dropped.

"Why?!"

"Did you forget? There is someone out there, to whom we're the bait. You know what he did to the last wife. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Okay, listen. First of all, this is our _job_. And we do it to save innocent people and serve justice. Second, we might catch this guy before he can even get to us, and even if we don't, we're trained, experienced FBI agents, not civilians. Third, I have been taking care of myself for quite some time, with _and_ without a man in my life. I said I'm falling in love with you, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to give up my whole self and become a princess in need of protection. Fourth… I don't _have_ a fourth, three is more than enough!"

She was slightly breathless after this little speech, and a blush, of indignation rather than embarrassment this time, had painted her cheeks with a bright pink. Her eyes were flashing. He held up both hands to show his surrender.

"If you want to continue with this, we'll continue."

"Thank you," she said in a somewhat calmer voice. "And for the record, I'm afraid too. He beat the husbands to death before the wives' eyes. But if we back out now, we fail all the morals we believe in, we turn our backs on the job we chose, and I won't stand for that."

"You're right," he said, and she was. He could wish differently as much as he wanted to, but she was right. If they backed out they would regret it later. Playing it safe was a good thing, but not always the right thing to do.

She held out her arms.

"Come here," she said. Dave doubted if he would be able to perform his best so soon after last night, but when he leaned in to kiss her and felt her warm mouth upon his, he felt himself starting to grow hard.

"This time I'll be on top," Alex whispered close to his ear, and just like that, he was more than ready for her.

* * *

When he left later in the morning - much later - Alex took a quick shower and then went into the kitchen. She was pleasantly sore and had a ridiculous grin plastered all over her face. She knew she did - she had seen her reflection in the bathroom mirror - but she didn't mind at all. She was satisfied, in every aspect of the word. She knew she could be rather uptight at times, but it wasn't in her nature to be an over-sharer, she liked to keep to herself. But every once in a while, solitude turned to loneliness, and she _was_ still a human being, still needing contact with other human beings. Her marriage to James had catered to these opposite needs well on paper, but in reality, not so much. When he was home, he was practically smothering her. He wanted her to stay at home with him, if she didn't, he'd call her at work repeatedly, and when she got home he didn't respect her need to regroup and relax in her own company. Always plans, meeting friends ( _his_ friends), dinner reservations, theatre, cinema, museums, exhibitions, daytrips. Then, just when she felt she couldn't take this whirlstorm of activity any longer, he left for another four- five- or even six-month round in some country with a name that she, the linguist, couldn't even pronounce. And then she was alone, which was much needed for the first three weeks or so. Then the silence became very loud, the empty space in the bed very cold, and the lack of company very depressing.

"It's like I always want the _exact_ thing I don't have," Alex said out loud to the sun-washed kitchen. "Until now. I feel like I have it all. Company when I need it…" her grin widened.

 _And good sex. Amazing sex_.

"…and time to myself when I need it."

She finished her second cup of coffee and put it in the dishwasher.

 _I'm never going to admit this to anyone, but I actually enjoy playing a housewife. Not that I'd like to be one for the rest of my life, but it's a nice change for a while. Oh my God, my mother's ghost is going to come back and haunt me for that._

At that point her mind made a sudden crossover and a theory began to form.

" _Ghosts_ ," she mumbled under her breath. The silly grin was gone; now she was frowning instead, deeply concentrated. "The girl in the store talked about ghosts. Maybe…"

She turned around, grabbed her jacket and purse and went out to the car. She would go on a little shopping trip and hopefully have another chat with Gina.

* * *

 **A/N**

And since I know you'll all be very curious now, I'm stopping there. Just to be mean. No, really. I'm stopping there because that's where I was when my muse suddenly jumped onto her broom and flew off, taking her inspirational fairy dust with her. ^^


	8. Chapter 8

Rossi took a ride past the luxurious restaurant with the odd name. The Gilded Cage really did sound more like a strip club than a fancy dinner place. Or perhaps he was just getting old.

The place was locked up and there was no light on inside, but he decided to get a bit closer and take a good look. Playing the stupid new-in-town- routine if he was caught. Everything seemed to be in order. If the entire restaurant was a rouse, it was one hell of a good one, but he didn't think it was. It looked legit.

"Hello there, who are you?" a male voice cut through the silence. He didn't sound angry, more confused.

Rossi turned around.

"I just moved in a few blocks away with my wife. I was just checking if the restaurant was open, you see, in a hopefully not too distant future we'll have reason to celebrate… big time."

"Wedding? Job promotion?"

 _Let's hope so on both_ , Dave thought to himself.

"I wouldn't call it a promotion, exactly, but it does have to do with the job."

"Secret, huh?" the man said but he didn't seem annoyed. He stepped up to Rossi and shook hands with him. "I'm Mike. And the Cage doesn't open until late afternoon."

"Do you work here?"

"Nah, I just drive the delivery car. Between you and I, the guys running this place are kind of weird, so I'm glad I wouldn't have to be around more than half an hour every Wednesday."

"Is that a fact?" Rossi pondered this. "Weird how?"

"I'm not sure, just gives me the creeps to be around them. But, I'm done for today and it's a whole blissful week until I have to come back. What did you say your name was again?"

"Richard. Richard Moore. I just moved in with my wife Angela at Laurel Street."

Mike winced.

"I hope the real estate lady gave you a history lesson. There is only one house available on Laurel Street and real creepy things have been happened in there."

"I've heard bits and pieces of it," Rossi nodded.

"Yeah, bits and pieces were all that was left," Mike said. His tan had taken on a considerably pale shade. Actually, almost slightly green.

"Was the restaurant here back then?"

"Yes, but with different owner. What, are you a cop, or something?"

 _Shit, I forgot myself_ , Dave thought and put on his mildest face.

"Not at all. Just curious about the town."

"Ask me anything you'd like to know. I was born and raised here. Quite the smalltown fairytale, really. I married the girl next door and we have two kids. The kids probably know even more about what's going on in this town than I do, they're always out and about."

"How old are they?"

"Eleven and twelve. They came very close."

"Almost like having twins," Rossi joked, as an idea formed in his head. "How about you and your family come over to me and my wife for dinner later in the week? We'd like to know everything about this town."

"Absolutely, that would be nice."

"Here, let me write down the address…" Rossi began, and Mike began to laugh heartily.

"Mister Moore, your house is notorious. I know where it is."

"Right." Rossi felt a bit stupid. "How about tomorrow at seven? Bring the kids if you like."

"I'm sure they'd be thrilled to go inside the only real haunted house in town," Mike grinned and shook his head. "Do you and your wife have kids?" He seemed content to make small talk all day, leaning lightly against his truck. He was an average tall, blonde, rather lanky guy with an open, bright face. Maybe mid to late 30s. If this was their unsub he would have started in his teens, and while it was possible, it wasn't likely. No, Mike wasn't the unsub. But maybe he knew something that could shine some light on the mystery.

"No, kids never happened," he said. "I guess we always were too busy making other plans."

Rossi accidentally began thinking of Alex sleeping that morning, the many sides of her. From the fragile cuteness to the raw and unladylike snore, and from her tough FBI agent persona to the sexy temptress. And then he began smiling. Mike noticed.

"You're very much in love with her, aren't you?"

"Feels like only yesterday I really understood what she means to me," he said truthfully and suddenly got the urge to buy her a gift. Something insanely expensive. "On that note, is there a jewel store in this town?"

Mike laughed out loud.

"Jewels on a Wednesday, huh? Either your missus is really something, or you need to soften her up before telling her you've invited strangers into your home," he remarked in good humour. Rossi shrugged, smiling.

"She's really something," he said, as a brief image of her on top of him, riding him as if he were a horse - an Italian stallion - flashed before his eyes. He shook his head a little to rid himself of the image. "Trust me, she is."

"I can't wait to have the pleasure," Mike said politely, and Rossi thought

 _Me neither._

* * *

Meanwhile, Alex's mind was occupied with far less pleasurable things than the morning's bareback ride; more specifically, the details of the crime scenes along with the autopsy reports.

 _Three couples, all Caucasian, heterosexual, upper middle class, ranging between forty-four and fifty-seven in age. Two with adult children that didn't live with them, and one without children. Hm._

It wasn't enough to build a reliable profile. The unsub was likely a Caucasian male, but they couldn't rule out a pair, and the age thing was contradicting itself. He couldn't be that young given that the first murder had occurred fifteen years earlier. He had to be at least around thirty today. And the mission oriented part of him seemed to clash with the rage - the husbands had been killed by blunt force trauma to the head, yes, but the injuries suggested that they had been beaten so hard they were nearly impossible to identify. And the wives had not only had their throats cut, they had been stabbed post mortem, between ten and thirty times. That suggested at least two murder weapons and could indicate two unsubs, both with a lot of anger… but it didn't _feel_ like two people. It was very unprofessional of course, and Alex usually rolled her eyes at those who acted on hunches alone, but this time she had no better explanation. One person did this, alone, and most likely nobody knew about his homicidal urges. He was definitely from the area… but why had he raped the latest wife? There had been no signs of sexual assault on the other victims.

She snapped back to reality at the sound of the young female cashier's voice.

"Back so soon?"

"Yeah, you know…" Blake tried a companionable smile and was relieved when the girl returned it. "Can't get the shopping done with a man, I should have learned that many years ago but I never do. I'm not sure what it's called; endurance or stupidity."

"You're not fooling me, Mrs Moore," Gina said. "You're terribly in love with him, aren't you?" She clasped a hand over her mouth and blushed. "I am so sorry, that is none of my business!"

Alex had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.

"You are forgiven, and yes, I am. More than I ever thought possible. In fact, our moving here was something of a restart."

She glanced at the redhead who looked like she would melt like sugar in rain from this real life romance story. This kind of Cosmopolitan fuelled, romance-addicted young women was another thing that usually earned a patented Alex Blake eye roll, but she was hardly in a position to pass judgment, was she, _bella_?

"What's the secret?"

 _Oh, girl. The secret is to first figure_ yourself _out,_ then _find someone whose flaws you can live with, and vice versa. But what twenty-year-old would believe that? They experience everything for the first time._

"Being patient and work on it."

 _Yeah, that works too. Sadly that's even less believable for a young person._

But they had strayed too far from the topic Blake wanted to discuss, so she abruptly changed subject.

"I have to admit I don't know much about the house when we bought it. Is it really true that someone was killed there?", she asked , trying to sound casually intrigued as she put the pile with fabrics up for the cashier to scan the price tags. She had just haphazardly grabbed some items, and her cheeks flushed when she realised that among other things she had picked up a set of champagne-coloured silk sheets.

 _Uh-oh, I suppose my subconscious is mission oriented today,_ she thought and had to bite her lip harder.

"I probably shouldn't tell you this at all; we don't need more people leaving the town, but…" Gina sighed. "The couples that were murdered during my lifetime weren't the only ones."

"What do you mean?" Alex had completely lost interest in the sheets and towels.

"It must have been, what, thirty years ago, maybe more. The couple living there were murdered the exact same way; tied up, husband beaten to death, wife had her throat cut. It happened on a Friday, and nobody found them until Monday. Can you imagine what it must have smelled like?"

Gina, brought up on Cosmopolitan and CSI: Miami, looked both horrified and intrigued. Alex, who had felt that decaying smell of a dead human a few times too many for her liking, felt her stomach tie together in a knot of nausea.

 _Yeah, it smells like death, plain and simple. There are no words invented to describe that stench, no metaphors good enough. It smells like rotting human flesh._

"No, I can't," she said. "But this was _thirty_ years ago? Did they catch the one who did it?"

"People on town say it was their own son, and he was later taken into a closed psychiatric ward. I hear he was moved upstate, but I'm not sure. It was so long ago, you know, it all happened before I was born."

 _Yeah, back in those days when dinosaurs walked the Earth,_ Alex thought, and smiled. She paid for her purchases and walked back out to the car, where she immediately called up Rossi.

"Hi honey," she said and was amused to notice that she wasn't entirely sure if she was in character or if she said honey to her very much real lover. She hoped for the latter.

"Hi there, _gattina_ ," he said. Alex frowned.

" _Kitten_? Well, it did sound better in Italian…" she said, feeling a bit confused and tried to find her way back to her assertive businesslike mode.

"Everything sounds better in Italian," Rossi teased her.

"Even homicide?"

"Omicidio. You be the judge."

"Damn, you're right. Can we focus? I'm outside the store where we bought the drapes, and I've just spoken to Gina."

"About?"

"The fourth murder."

There was a sudden silence on the line. Alex smiled triumphantly.

"Fourth?"

"I'm assuming you can't talk right now, but I'm just going to lay this out for you to ponder: thirty years ago, another murder, with the exact same components, occurred in that house. Their own son was suspected and possibly sent upstate to a secure psychiatric ward. I told you, _I_ don't believe in ghosts… but maybe our _unsub_ does!"

"I think you may have to check this our with our acquaintance who's so good with computers. Give her a call as soon as you get back home, and see if she can help you out."

Alex smiled and realised that she unwittingly rubbed her hand back and forth across the silk sheets, wishing she was stretched out naked on them, waiting for her husband/lover to come home and make sweet love to her. Either that, or just fuck her into oblivion. She would welcome either approach.

But before she could plan for such a delicious afternoon, she would have to call Garcia and ask her to check up on this fourth murder.

* * *

Rossi hung up the phone and mumbled an apology to the man behind the disk in the jewel store.

"I want my wife to have something very exclusive. Money is not a problem."

"If you have a wife and money is not a problem, then she probably deserves that gift," the man behind the desk grunted. Rossi didn't even have to be a profiler to understand that the man had been unhappily married to a woman who used up all his money and then left him, seeking greener pastures. But he didn't need to hear the Failed Marriages Blues right now. He wanted to give Alex something that would render her speechless.

"How about this one?"

He held up a diamond necklace that Dave immediately could picture around Alex's slender neck.

"Yes, that is perfect. How much?"

"3000."

Rossi didn't blink.

"I'll take it."

 _She's probably not going to accept it anyway, but I want her to have it. I want to give it to her. What the hell, the thing I really want to give to her is a ring, but I'm certain she wouldn't accept THAT. At least not yet. She's stubborn._

Yes, she was stubborn, and oh dear God, he loved her for it.

* * *

 **A/N**

I coaxed the muse back for a while, bribing her with some apple donuts that I found. So she agreed to stay long enough for this chapter to be written. Man, I have to bake more often. ^^

Seriously though. I hope you stay intrigued, and oh, yeah, I do have a feeling Alex is going to melt like hot wax in his arms when he comes home with those diamonds… _after_ she has a chance to tell him off for spending so much money on her, of course. ^^


	9. Chapter 9

Alex sat down by her laptop and started a video conference call with Penelope Garcia. The younger woman was, true to her habit, doing several things at once, among others eating soup from a cup.

"Hey Garcia… I didn't think you ate chicken noodle," Blake greeted her. Garcia swallowed and shook her head.

"It's not chicken noodle. It's vegetarian curry," Garcia shot back, but then everything about her softened and if she could, she would have hugged the screen. "Everything okay, o Mistress of the Dark and Depraved Art that is Linguistics?"

 _Mistress of the Dark and Depraved Art?_

"Yeah, everything's fine over here. Look, I need you to check up on something that happened in this house earlier. Say thirty to thirty-five years back, a murder with striking similarities to the ones we investigate now."

"Mmm…" Garcia's skilled fingers danced across the keyboard. "Wow, you really do have some connections to the Dark and Depraved Art," she said. "Look at that. And you choose to live in that house voluntarily? I would take in way too many bad vibes to survive."

 _Oh for heaven's sake._

"What do you have, Garcia?"

"Way too many questions about you and Rossi, but I'll wait with those until I deliver the answer to what you had me looking for. Well. There was indeed a murder, almost identical to the series of murders in later days, back in late August of 1983. Mr and Mrs Collinsworth had been watching a TV show and Mrs Collinsworth got up to close the door to the balcony, when she was hit in the head and knocked unconscious, she was then tied to a chair. The unsub proceeded to beat Mr Collinsworth - who likely slept through it, which was lucky for him I guess - to death in the couch, before cutting the woman's throat."

"Were there any stab wounds or signs of rape?"

"No to the first and eeew to the second, which basically is a form of no but with an added eww because it's particularly disgusting given that the unsub was their own son, sixteen year old Nicholas. He was caught three days later in Las Vegas, trying to use his dead parents' credit cards."

Blake couldn't form any complete theory out of this mess. There were just too many unanswered questions from start to finish, and after listening to Garcia rattling off facts mixed with opinions she felt like her head was spinning. Why couldn't everyone be brief and to the point, more like Spencer Reid?

"The son, is he out?"

"Nope, he's in a closed psychiatric ward. He confessed to the murders, claiming ghosts told him to do it, and that he didn't want to."

"Ghosts," Alex repeated under her breath, wondering what the hell they had on their hands here. "Does he have any connection to any of the later victims?"

"Negative. He hasn't been out of there at all, apart from a short return in 1998, when his doctor thought seeing the place again would help him move past the things that happened, like, as part of some new therapy treatment they tried."

"Did it work?"

"Nope, but it didn't seem to make further harm either."

Alex took a deep breath and let it out through her nostrils.

"Then two years later the first of the new killings started. This is so frustrating! I have almost nothing to work on with this, my theories are running dry…" she complained, but Garcia looked back at her and wriggled her eyebrows.

"Really? And here I was guessing the dry spell is over, was I mistaken?"

Blake's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Penelope _Garcia_!"

"See there, right there, you already told me the truth. Is it official yet? Are you…?"

"Goodbye Penelope," Blake cut her off and closed down the video conference call.

* * *

Penelope Garcia bounced on her chair.

"Blake and Rossi are getting it on…!" she squealed and sent a PM to the rest of the team. "

" _Fourth Mrs Rossi in progress"._

The replies didn't take long:

 **JJ** _: Really?!_

 **Morgan** _: It's about time._

 **Reid** _: What do you mean? Who's the fourth Mrs Rossi?_

 **Hotch** _: That is their business, not ours. Back to work, Garcia._

Then there was a silence for a while when suddenly another reply blinked in on Garcia's screen.

 **Blake** : _Forgot to remove my name from the PM list, did you? I am NOT, nor will I ever be, the fourth Mrs Rossi, and I hope to GOD you remembered to take HIS name off this list! I WILL NOT BE MRS ROSSI!_

Garcia looked at Blake's reply, smiled and said out loud to the screen:

"Yes, you will, my dear linguist. The fact that you're freaking out over it is all the proof I need; you're never this emotional."

But Hotch was right. It wasn't her business. So much. Garcia took another mouthful of soup and went back to work.

* * *

Alex shook her head. Mrs Rossi the 4th, huh? She had been married twice; an impulsive drunken roadtrip wedding when she was eighteen, that her father had annulled (and sweet Jesus, was he angry? You bet he was. He had never been that angry with his only daughter, not before, not after). She had been Mrs Hendrickson for about 48 hours and her father later told her that she should consider herself lucky that 'Mr Hendrickson' (a broad-shouldered football player, a guy who couldn't pronounce the word 'linguist', much less spell it) hadn't managed to knock her up as well, to make the farce complete. She married James, a handsome doctor, at 29 instead, and that seemed to go down pretty well…. Except perhaps in the eyes of Scott, her youngest brother. He had never said anything out loud, but she had the feeling that Scott never liked James.

 _I wonder what he would think of Dave?_

She smiled to herself and had to make an effort to stop it.

"Doesn't matter, I'm not marrying the man. It's too soon to think about that anyway."

 _Is it? You've known each other for several years, and you have trusted each other with your life._

"And I should focus on the case," Alex said out loud and leaned against the kitchen desk. "Ghosts. Was someone _telling_ this kid to kill his parents? If his psyche was unstable to begin with, that could have pushed him over the edge."

The front door opened and Rossi came in, carrying two bags with groceries.

"You didn't lock the door," he said disapprovingly.

"I'm standing right here, it's not like anyone could have snuck up on me," Alex replied and promptly switched subject. "I've already done the shopping. I'm the housewife, remember?"

"I know. But we're having dinner guests tomorrow, so I thought I'd buy the extra stuff to make sure you don't have to stress."

She put both hands on her hips.

"Dinner guests?"

"Yep, the guy who delivers to the Gilded Cage. We had a nice little chat when I was there checking the place out. He says the owners are 'weird'."

"Weird, how?"

"Just weird. Anyway, he's a local which means he might know a lot about what's going on in this town; rumours as well… and we must make some friends."

"For some reason I think we'd blend in better if we made friends among the neighbourhood rather than the delivery truck driver." She heard how it sounded and sighed. "I'm not a snob, it's not that, but… keeping up appearances, does it ring a bell?"

Rossi frowned.

"I didn't think about it that way. I don't pick friends from a predestined circle just because they drive the right car or have the right job."

Alex smiled.

"I know you don't. That's just one of the things that I love about you."

She stepped up to him and put her arms around him from behind. "I missed you."

"I was only gone for two hours," he said, surprised.

"I know. This is my clingy side. Wait for the pendulum to swing to the opposite side and I might throw you out of the house instead," she joked.

He turned around and put his hands on her waist, slowly pulling her towards his body.

"I think I prefer your clingy side."

He kissed her neck and she moaned. The desire welled up inside her like it had never been satisfied at all.

"Take me right here, on the counter," she whispered.

"Easy Alex, I'm an old man, I may need some time" he objected, but the erection that strained against his zipper begged to differ.

"Let me tell you a secret," she breathed against his neck. Each word was accompanied by a hot, feather-light puff of air. "I'm not wearing any panties."

"Oh, fuck, Alex," he groaned and lifted her up on the counter.

"Yes please, do fuck Alex," she replied breathlessly as he started kissing the insides of her thighs, slowly working his way up to her throbbing clit. But right before his exploring mouth reached it, there was a knock on the door.

"No!" Alex hissed in a voice that was lethal in its own right, and Dave made a mental note not to ever stand in the way of Alex Blake and her orgasm. "Don't open the door David, just finish what we've started…"

"If he goes to look in through the windows he's going to see us," Dave said and helped her get back down on her feet again. "Also, _you'd_ better open the door. I'm somewhat… uh," he gestured to his crotch. Alex smiled and bit her lip.

"Somewhat erected," she filled in and tried to push away her disappointment. "Fine. But I expect to finish this as soon as I can get rid of this salesman or Jehovah's witness or whatever it is," she added, pouting a little as she pulled her skirt down, ran her fingers through her hair and smoothed her blouse. The flush on her face and neck she could do nothing about though, nor the 'come and fuck me'-shine in her eyes, but this would have to do.

"Yes?" she snapped as she yanked the door open, for a split second realising that if I had been the murderer, she wouldn't have had a chance. But it was no murderer.

It was Aaron Hotchner.

* * *

 **A/N**

My muse is in a good mood, can you tell? ^^ And no, I have the vaguest of ideas what Hotch is doing there, as said muse took off again before I could ask her.

I'm glad this has been a productive weekend, because I'll be quite busy next week so if I'll have the time to update at all it'll be towards the end of the week. I hope you'll enjoy this in the meanwhile, and thank you everyone for all your sweet, enthusiastic and engaged reviews! Keep it up! You're awesome!


	10. Chapter 10

"Angela, hi!" Hotch said and Blake blinked several times before finding her bearings.

"Hi! Come in," she said warmly, although she felt like punching him straight in the face. Twice. First for putting them in this situation, and then for interrupting them when it was getting interesting.

"The Section Chief sent me to do an on-site evaluation," he explained as the door had closed behind him. "If anyone is curious, I'm your brother Anthony, who was in the neighbourhood during a business trip."

"Anthony and Angela? I see our parents were in favour of the 'stick to one initial for naming your kids'-routine. How cute," she said and almost bit off her tongue. Was she being sassy with her stone-faced boss? Then she recalled what he had interrupted, and didn't mind being so sassy anymore.

"Yes, it was," he said dryly and she had a feeling she spoke of something else. He looked around. "Where's Dave?"

Rossi emerged from the hallway connecting the kitchen and the living room. The sound of his boss/friend's voice had rather efficiently gotten him back to normal, and he wasn't entirely happy. It would make it difficult to finish what he had started with Alex.

"Hi Hotch."

Hotch noted that the man had the decency to look a tad guilty.

"I'm going to get right to the point. I need to ask you two straight out: will there be any problems fulfilling this assignment? We're looking at possibly two, maybe three more months unless we have a major breakthrough. I realise that the nature of your relationship has changed, but this is the last chance to back out. _Can you handle this assignment_?"

"Yes," Blake said, almost defiantly, and folded her arms across her chest. Hotch gave her his infamous death stare, challenging her to buckle, but she didn't move a muscle, just calmly looked back into his eyes.

Hotch nodded.

"Fine. Dave, a word in private, please?"

* * *

"Are you absolutely sure you can handle this? If anything happens to Blake, can you still focus?" Hotch was even more serious than he usually was.

"Nothing is going to happen to Alex, and I'm positive I can focus on taking down an unsub. Is that why you're really here? To keep tabs on me?"

Hotch's voice softened.

"I'm just trying to be your friend, Dave. It nearly killed you to lose Erin, and here you are with another colleague, just a little over a year later. You and Blake are taking a great risk just by being here, and you can't turn a blind eye to that fact. But when I leave this house now, we play this down until we catch our unsub, and I need to know that I can count on you."

"You can count on both of us," Rossi said. Hotch searched for deception or over-confidence in his friend's eyes but found neither.. Eventually he nodded.

"Good. Also, a friendly piece of advice - when you stand on the front porch you can see what goes on onto the kitchen counter nearest the window. Something about the angle, I suppose. So it might not be a bad idea to get some drapes."

Rossi resisted a near-hysteric - completely unlike him - urge to reply to this remark with "That's what _she_ said!" but managed to keep himself under wraps. He didn't want to make fun of Alex, and definitely not in front of Hotch.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said instead, nodding solemnly. Hotch shook his head.

"Make sure I don't have to regret this," he said.

"You won't."

"We'll see about that," he sighed. It had been one thing when Rossi had an affair with Strauss; at least that didn't have a direct impact on the team's everyday work. But with Blake… fractions might sneak into the team he thought so well functioning…

But no. He merely painted a whole canvas of all the worse case scenarios here. In fact, those two were the ones he thought would be least noticeable for having a relationship while on the team. Given that they could keep away from kitchen counters and such while working, of course. He huffed and went out to his car.

 _Mr and Mrs agent Rossi,_ he thought to himself and couldn't keep his façade from cracking in a brief, but big, grin once he was certain the couple in question couldn't see him.

* * *

As Hotch's car had left the driveway, Dave locked the door and went to look for Alex. He found her in the kitchen, with her back to him and her hands up to her face. Her shoulders shook as if she was crying.

"Oh, Alex," he said, gathering strength to comfort her, but there was no need to. Alex wasn't crying. She was laughing. She was laughing so hard tears were seeping out of the corners of both eyes, trickling down her flushed cheeks and dropping from her chin.

"I just talked back to my boss… while not wearing underwear," she wheezed and tried to say something else but was completely overcome by laughter. "I just…" she snorted like a horse and began laughing about that instead. Rossi shook his head, but joined in, although he was laughing more at her laughing than the situation. His best friend and boss had just seen him perform (or being about to perform) oral sex on their colleague. He decided that this little piece of information wasn't something that Alex needed to be let in on. He put his arms around her and they laughed together in this house which history in so large parts had been made up by tears.

* * *

"Well," Rossi said much later, when they had gotten their laughter under control and were able to focus on their job for a while, "I think we have to look at these killings as separate incidents. The latter _must_ be a copycat killer, I have a hard time seeing the original killer having anything to do with these murders."

Alex tapped her fingers against the table.

"I agree. But if we're only dealing with one unsub, how did he manage to overpower two adults alone? The son, though only a teen, I can see him do it. He knew them. He probably knew that his dad would doze off after watching TV. And they had no reason to keep their guard up."

"But they did. Young Nicholas was a disturbed boy. I saw his case file, and he went to therapy for quite some time."

"Rossi, many adolescents go to therapy without turning into murderers. Adults too. I went to therapy for almost seven years after the Amerithrax case. Not once did I have the urge to go on a killing spree or chop up a bunch of people just because they reminded me of my high school bullies or anything. I was angry and depressed, but not everyone who's angry and depressed would actually hurt anyone."

"That is true, but this Nicholas kid did."

Alex sighed.

"Yes, he did. We're still not getting anywhere. What do you say we get some Chinese takeaway, then take a very long, very hot shower together, and then go to bed?"

"What do you say we skip the takeaway, take that hot shower, and eat strawberries in bed?"

"You bought strawberries?" she said sceptically.

"Mm-hmm. And champagne."

"Why mister Rossi, one might think you're trying to seduce me," Alex said in a breathy, ladylike voice and flashed her million dollar smile at him.

"Who said anything about _trying_?" he replied and swept her up in his arms. She let out a surprised little shriek and flung her arms around his neck.

"I can't get enough of you, Alex," he said, and he thought about the necklace that was safely tucked away in his coat pocket… but right now might not be a good time to introduce it. It might tip the scale from exciting to forcing, and right now all he wanted was to be close to her, skin to skin, and not deal with discussions about expensive gifts.

"Aren't I the luckiest girl in the world," she replied and kissed him.

"Lucky and naughty," Dave muttered. "Imagine if Hotch had simply walked right in."

Alex laughed and dug her face into his shoulder.

"Please, I'm trying my very best _not_ to!"

He chuckled and kissed her hair.

"Come on beautiful, let's go and get hot and wet."

"Truth be told… I don't have to actually _go_ anywhere to get to that point," she purred, leaning her head back and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

"My God Alex, you're a man-eater," he teased.

"Yeah, well, you're a womanizer, so it's only fair you get a challenge…" she replied, got to her feet and took his hand. "Let's go."

* * *

Later, as they were in bed after a particularly intense lovemaking, including champagne and strawberries, and were about to go to sleep, Rossi noticed that Alex seemed lost in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

"I'm thinking about Garcia…" Alex replied absently. Dave propped himself up on one elbow and stared at her.

"Are you serious? I just made you come twice…"

"Three times," she interrupted and kissed him on the side of his mouth. "You're very good."

He didn't let her sidetrack him.

"… and you're thinking of someone _else_?"

She looked up at him and grinned in mischievous disbelief.

"Are you _jealous_? Okay, I usually don't spill people's secrets, but I am so going to tell her that!"

"You're going to tell Garcia that you think about her in bed?" he joked. "Oh that is one conversation I'd like to hear."

"Shut up," she chuckled and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Of course not. But I might spill to her that you're jealous."

"Must you look so ridiculously pleased with yourself?" he growled.

"Yes, I do. Not only am I ridiculously pleased by you, I'm also pretty content with my own performance. It's been a while, I'm glad to see I still have the skills," she said and slowly ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip. He couldn't help staring at her mouth. She certainly had some skills with it, he could vouch for that alright. But she was changing the subject.

"So in the afterglow, you like to think about Garcia? Interesting. I should hope not in a provocative way."

Alex turned to face him, and she was smiling with her entire face.

"Honey, is there anything about Garcia that _isn_ _'_ _t_ provocative? But no, I do not think of her like that. My God, that would be almost like cradle-robbing."

"I'm going to tell _her_ that!" he said, but he was laughing.

"Go ahead, I think 'Wondergirl' would be flattered above anything else," she said and yawned. "If you need to know, I was just thinking about how on Earth I'll ever be able to look her in the eye again, given that she seems to know what's going on between us already."

"You worry about _Garcia_?! I have no idea how to look _Hotch_ in the eye again!"

Alex paled.

"Oh, fuck. I forgot about him," she groaned and leaned back onto the pillows. "Oh well. At least he didn't see anything."

Rossi chuckled to himself and snuggled in close to his lover.

"That's right, he didn't," he said. "Go to sleep."

Alex sighed in agreement and thought about how good it felt to have his body so close to hers.

 _I'm never letting go of this man,_ she thought. _That would kill me._ And then, just before drifting off to sleep, another thought came to her _: I actually_ want _to be the fourth Mrs Rossi. The fourth and last._

Her lips curled upward in a smile, and she took that smile with her into sleep.

* * *

 **A/N**

Since my plans got changed and I got more errands taken care of yesterday than I thought I would, there was time for this. Well, there wasn't, not really, but if I have the opportunity to choose between writing and cleaning the apartment, I sure don't choose the vacuum cleaner if you know what I mean. Also, I have a bout of "missing-Blake-ness" and needed a dose of her character, so what the hell. I guess I could watch the whole season 8 and 9 again, but I feel like I know the episodes by heart now. Oh if I could get one more season with Blake on the team I'd be happy. XD

That or a big chocolate cake. Happiness comes in many forms. ^^

Thank you SO MUCH everyone for reading this and for all your sweet and encouraging reviews! You are AMAZING, you guys! Also, I know the whole "case" part is a bit wonky, but I didn't actually plan on developing it too much. It was mainly just an excuse to get them into the situation and it spun away from there. LOL But I have a clue now... ^^


	11. Chapter 11

"Is this okay? I'm not overdressed, am I?" Alex asked the next day as they were getting ready for the dinner party. Dave managed to keep a straight face, but inwardly, he wanted to take her into the bedroom right away.

It wasn't that she was dressed provocatively; in fact, she looked rather modest and put-together in a wide dark blue top and a black skirt, but there was a mischievous spark in her eyes that made her look… well… sexy.

"You are wearing underwear this time, aren't you?" he said when he found his voice. Alex raised her eyebrows and gave him a sweet smile.

"You might be surprised."

"When am I not? There is one thing missing though."

"Oh?" she looked down at her outfit. "What would…"

When she looked up he held out a box that very clearly contained jewellery.

"This is what's missing," he said. Alex looked at the box and then at him

"Dave…"

"Just open it."

She did, and her breath caught in her throat. The necklace looked simple enough, which only made it more likely that it was very expensive. It could be fake of course, but she had a feeling David Rossi did not buy fake _anything_ , which meant that this was…

"It's not a…" she choked on the word and had to start over. "It's not a diamond, is it?"

"It is."

"I can't, Dave… it's too much," she said and tried to shove the box back into his hands.

"No. I want you to have it, and it's not too much," he replied firmly, took it out and opened the clasp. "Here, try it on. Turn around."

She obeyed, too stunned to protest, and allowed him to put the thin golden chain around her neck. The drop-shaped diamond laid itself comfortable to rest against her skin as if it belonged there.

"I can't wear this tonight, the Devlans…" _will think we_ _'_ _re snobs_ , she tried to finish, but Rossi interrupted her.

"…will see a beautiful woman with a beautiful necklace. Unless you plan on telling them how much it costs, which I'm confident you won't, because you don't know."

"I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, you don't think I can find out?"

"Not without blowing our cover," he replied and kissed her. "You really are beautiful. And when our dinner company has left, I want to take off everything but that necklace and make love to you." He kissed her again. "Slowly. Gently." He took a step back and enjoyed watching her flushed complexion.

"It'll be torture having to wait," Alex exhaled and bit her lip.

"Yes, it will be," Dave replied and placed a quick kiss at the tip of her nose. "But good things come to those who wait."

"This is sexual sadism," Alex muttered.

"No, I believe it's called delayed gratification," he replied, grinning.

"Semantics."

He chuckled and changed subject, to her great relief. She wasn't sure she would have been able to bicker about this much longer without jumping him.

"I had Garcia checking the family, and they're clear. Seems very all-American. Not too well-off financially, but they always pay their bills and have no funny business on the side. Wife works at the grocery store as a cashier. Kids have good grades. No alarm bells."

"And… Garcia?"

"You mean did she ask about us?"

Alex nodded.

"Only about 5 qpm."

"Qpm?"

"Questions per minute."

"And what did you tell her?"

"I told her that at this point of the investigation I couldn't leave out any information," he joked just as the door bell rang. "Come on, _Angela_. Let's see if we can find something out about the 'weird' owners of the Gilded Cage."

She nodded. Yeah. Like nothing else about this case was weird…

* * *

The Devlan family were nice - so nice that Alex felt a sting of regret for fooling them like this - and their kids were well-mannered in a way that seemed to come naturally rather than through parental schooling. She knew it would be her responsibility to find something to entertain the kids with as the evening grew late, and she had been quite nervous about it. She wasn't much of a kid person. But these kids seemed alright. So after dinner she asked if they wanted to watch a movie. Rossi had stopped by at the store and picked up a handful of kids' movies on DVD (and seemed a bit eager to watch them himself, something that Alex pretended not to notice). But the kids looked at her and asked:

"Is it true that this house is haunted?"

"Why would you say that?" she asked, dragging out on the answer. She wasn't sure how much their parents had told them.

"We know that people were killed here, and they say a ghost from very, very long ago did it," the girl promptly replied. She was twelve and her biggest dream was to be a cop, had she told them at dinner.

"Who says that?"

The boy, who wanted to be a professional baseball player, made a sweeping gesture.

"Everyone."

"Name one."

"Our parents."

"Well…" the girl said, suddenly a bit hesitant. "They say there _might_ be ghosts here." She looked up at Alex. "You're not the ghost, are you?"

"Oh I've been called many things, but ghost is not one of them!" she said and couldn't help laughing. "No, I'm not a ghost."

But she wondered where this ghost thing came from. Of course rumours about haunted houses and ghosts always started circulating when someone was murdered; it was in human nature to look for evil beyond humanity. But they had spoken about ghosts even before the first murder took place. But in what way? Did they hear voices?

 _The ghost told me to kill them_ , Nicholas had said when caught. Of course he was mentally ill, but _was_ it really a hallucination? And where did the strangely-named restaurant come into the picture? Or was it just a coincidence? Oh, her head ached just trying to sort this case out.

"Have you seen it though?"

She smiled.

"No, I haven't seen any ghosts in here, and I've lived here for almost a month now."

"Okay."

Instead of seeming calmed by this information, both seemed a bit disappointed. Alex shook her head with a surprised smile.

 _You do your best to make them feel safe and it turns out they want to be scared. Damned if you do and damned if you don_ _'_ _t._

When she returned to the table and sat down she said;

"I'm afraid I had to disappoint your children and tell them that this place isn't haunted."

Mrs Devlan laughed out loud.

"Oh my God, they're on a haunted house kick right now, it's terrible. We've been saving up so we can go to Disneyland next summer, and they want to go to the Winchester Mystery House instead."

She shuddered.

"So this place isn't haunted?" Mike said in a light tone. "I've heard rumours…"

"Well, the current residents in the Amityville house have never encountered any paranormal activity, so rumours aren't always trustworthy," Rossi said. "I for one haven't seen or heard anything unusual in this house."

Alex blushed and looked down at her glass of wine. Nothing unusual, apart from the two distinguished middle aged FBI agents fucking like rabbits in each and every single room and on all furniture. Maybe there _was_ an entity in here, but if there was, it was probably the ghosts of Casanova and the Babylon whore taking possession of their bodies. She almost had to laugh at her own train of thought and put down her glass. No more wine for her tonight.

When she was certain she wasn't going to laugh, she realised that Rossi had managed to steer the subject into that of the restaurant owners.

"Yeah, they're kind of weird," Mike said. "They're brothers, I think from New York but don't quote me on that. The older brother used to have some kind of mental problems. Schizophrenia, I think."

"Mhm," Rossi said and exchanged looks with Alex. Schizophrenia was one of those sadly misunderstood diagnosis that was butchered by media and fiction.

"He's not violent or anything, he's just a bit odd. He has his own office and he rarely goes out when there are people around. His brother is more sociable, but, you know… it can't be easy having to deal with it day in and day out."

"No," Alex said in a low voice. "It can't."

There was a brief silence, and then Mrs Devlan broke it.

"I love your necklace Mrs Moore, it's beautiful."

"Thank you. And you have to tell me where you bought those earrings," she replied, elegantly taking focus from the luxurious gemstone around her neck, even as it seemed to burn against her skin, marking her.

 _He bought me a diamond. Just like that._

For the first time she had a worried thought about getting into a relationship with a man this wealthy. She wasn't exactly poor herself; while her two jobs were prestigious but not particularly well-paid, she had savings and investments. But Rossi… the man wasn't just a millionaire, he was a _multi_ -millionaire. Could she really adjust to a life with access to that kind of money, even if it wasn't hers? Playing house was one thing, but when they got back to D.C.? Would this work?

Their eyes met and she felt a warm, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 _It has to. We_ _'_ _ll make it work._

* * *

As their dinner guests had left - and Alex once more felt guilty when they wanted to invite them back to their house - Dave gave her a slow kiss, gently running his fingers through her hair.

"I love your hair, Alex," he mumbled and kissed her again before pulling her close. She inhaled his cologne and closed her eyes in bliss.

"Mm, you smell good."

"I'll send my gratitude to Giorgio Armani," he said as he slowly began to unbutton her blouse. One button… then a kiss on the revealed skin… and the next…

"David…" but whatever she wanted to say, it drowned in the intense flow of sensations. He undressed her slowly, and so gently that her skin ached, almost as if she had a fever. Which wasn't so far from the truth; she felt like she was burning up with desire. She reached for his belt, but he gently removed her hands.

"No. I'll take care of that, but you're first."

Once he had freed her of her blouse, and covered every inch of revealed skin with soft, featherlike kisses, he kneeled in front of her and gently pulled down her skirt. This time she had indeed chosen to wear underwear - he was glad, because that would make this last longer, the sweet torture he was exposing her to - and he saw to his surprise that she even wore garters. This time she had picked out _black_ lace.

"Alex…"

"Told you, you might be surprised," she said, but she was too out of breath to sound cheeky. She probably needed to start working out a bit more if she was going to keep this up… or, of course, do this more often.

"I am," he said and placed a kiss just above her panty lining. "What do you say we keep these on for the time being?"

Alex moaned.

 _No, I want you to tear them off._

He stood and pulled her close, kissing her neck.

"Let's go to bed."

Alex nodded. Her heart pounded so hard she felt dizzy, and with each beat it sent waves of hot blood burning throughout her body. Her skin screamed to be touched. Her nipples were so hard they hurt. She ran her hands down her own body to ease some of the need to be touched.

"Delayed gratification," she groaned, and she didn't recognise her own voice. "It's painful."

"I have to admit I never thought of you as very impulsive," Dave said, and his voice was husky with desire as well.

"I'm not. Usually," she replied. "Please, don't make me wait too long. Oh, please…"

She sat down on the side of the bed and reached out her legs, allowing him to take off her heels and garters. He then proceeded upwards, to kiss the front of her panties, but without taking them off.

"I think you can last a little longer," he said and moved even higher upwards, kissing his way from her stomach, to her ribs, to her bra-clad breasts… each kiss was so soft it was like a breath of wind, and she moaned and writhed in protest of this much too light touch. He took off her bra and caressed her breasts, teased her nipples with his tongue. Alex thought she was going to self-combust, just go up in flames right on the spot.

He wasn't even undressed yet; he had dropped the blazer in the hallway - or so she thought, her focus was quite directed to herself at the moment - and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway, but that was about it.

"Dave," she panted, "please don't tease me any longer, please…"

She threw her legs around him, pressed up against him. And yes, she felt him, how hard he was, he was ready. But he pulled away and merely stroke his fingertips across her wet panties.

"Do you want to come, Alex?" he asked. She nodded and whimpered, not sure if it was in pleasure or in pain. An oily drop of sweat trickled down between her breasts, down her abdomen and was caught by the lace further down.

Dave took off her drenched panties, still excruciatingly slow in each movement, and dove down, teasing her with his mouth. It was too much for Alex.

"For fuck's sake!" she cried out, beyond herself with arousal, "Just _fuck_ me, before I do it myself!"

 _Now that_ _'_ _s an idea_ , he thought, and withdrew again, much to his lover's desperation.

"Why don't you?" he said and kissed her deeply. She could feel the taste of her own juices on his mouth. For some reason this drove her absolutely crazy. There was nothing to discuss; she reached down and touched herself, surprised at how incredibly wet she was but not really caring. Dave watched as she rode her own hand to orgasm, and when her hips bucked, he decided that he too had had enough with this doing it softly. He got the remaining piece of clothing off of himself before her orgasm had ebbed out, and he got on top of her.

"Ready?"

"Oh, yes, that was only the beginning," Alex breathed and thrust her hips forward to meet him halfway. When he joined her nothing else seemed important, and they were flying together, through burning skies where desire was the only law.

* * *

 **A/N**

Oh God. Someone please hand me a bag I can put over my head, or a rock I can crawl under. LOL And please be nice, because right now I feel very weird. *hides*


	12. Chapter 12

It was a bit over a week later, and Blake and Rossi had decided to take a walk around the block. Or at least _shuffle_ around the block. They were both rather exhausted from the intense physical training they had gotten over the past few weeks.

"I can hardly walk. And they say the Quantico exercise field is physically exhausting…" Alex said as she snuck her hand into his, lacing their fingers together.

"If it's of any consolation, you gave me plenty of exercise as well," Dave replied. Alex looked up at him and scoffed.

"Maybe we need to cut down on this."

"Cut down on what?"

"You know, sex. I mean, we're supposed to be able to take down an unsub, but I for one barely feel like I'm able to wrestle down a…"

"Neighbour."

"Wrestle down a neighbour?"

"No, there's a neighbour approaching."

"A good thing we're not in a compromising position, then," Alex replied, tilting her head to the side and giving him an almost girly smile.

"Oh I wouldn't worry too much, we're married, after all," he said, winking at her. Alex felt butterflies in her stomach. _Oh, I wish we were_ , she thought and looked back at him. His smile told her that so did he.

Calmed by the confirmation, she could turn her attention to the neighbour instead. It was a man, in his mid to late seventies, who probably had been tall and lanky in his youth, but was now bent and very skinny. He was dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt, and he had bright blue eyes and a sunny smile.

"Hello, Mr and Mrs Moore," he said. "I've been meaning to welcome you to the block, but things always seemed to get in the way. I'm John Dallas, I live two houses away from yours."

"Nice to meet you," Alex said, and they both shook hands with him. "We haven't spoken to many of the neighbours yet."

"I guess after what happened to the other folks living in that house of yours, people have become a bit reluctant to mix with strangers around here."

"How long have you lived here?" Rossi asked.

"Let's see, it has to be about… almost fifty years now. Back when this was just your average working class neighbourhood, I moved in with my wife. She died last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Alex said.

"Thank you. It was tough, but when you get to my age, you're bound to be familiar with death."

Rossi blinked and averted his eyes, and Alex knew he was thinking about Erin Strauss. She hadn't be the age when anyone should have to be familiar with death, but in their line of work, it was always present. Always lurking in the shadows. Alex squeezed his hand gently to show her support, and he gratefully squeezed hers back. Then he pulled himself together.

"So you lived here back when the first murder happened in our house?" Alex tried to pick up the subject. Mr Dallas nodded.

"Yup. I don't recall who called 911, it was one of the elderly neighbours next door, but I'll be damned if I can remember on which side. Nobody could imagine that whole thing would happen; I mean, sure Nicky was a troubled kid, he had his demons, but… killing his parents and then take off, it just wasn't like anything he'd do."

"What _was_ he like, then?"

"Are you a cop, lady?" he said jokingly. "'cause if you are, I'd sure like you to show your badge before interrogating me."

Blake forced herself to calm down. She kept forgetting that she wasn't supposed to push on and ask questions like she was used to.

"I'm just curious about the history of my home," she mumbled.

"Well, he was an odd kid; not violent, I mean, he never went through a period where he would rip wings off flies or kick cats or anything like that. In fact, he was very sweet with animals. He was just… troubled. Talked to himself, stuff like that. I think they diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia; his mother talked to me about it sometimes, how worried she was. But he had finally gotten a good doctor, and things seemed to improve. Then that. Oh, it was a mess."

"The other murders, do you know anything about them?"

"Only that they occurred in 2000, 2004 and 2014. Between the second and the third there was a pretty young couple living there for eight years, but I guess they got tired of their friends not wanting to come over to their "haunted house", and when hubby got himself a job promotion, they moved. To be honest, I think they did the right thing."

"How so?"

"Well, in quiet places like this one, history tends to shed on those living where it took place. It rubs off on you, and you'll be seen as, at best, somewhat weird for choosing to live there. If you live here ten years, people might start to accept you, but so far, they're…" he looked at Alex and sighed. "I'm going to be blunt; they're just waiting for this unknown killer to creep back from the shadows and kill you, too. I'm sorry if I upset you, ma'am," he said, and he genuinely sounded sorry. Blake smiled.

"Don't worry about me. I'm pretty tough."

"Nevertheless, I think it's a depressing subject to discuss on a sunny day," he concluded and nodded. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" He shook their hands once more. "Have a nice day, you two," he said and left.

Rossi frowned.

"If he was getting better, and he had never been violent before, why would he kill his parents?"

Alex just shook her head. Sometimes therapy and medication could initially cause an individual to act out before they stabilised, she knew that, but that should have been ruled out when it was an open case.

* * *

As they were almost back at their own house again, they passed the neighbours from just across the street. Two young women who seemed to favour shorts the size of panties were outside washing their car. The blonde raised a hand and waved. The redhead settled for a smile.

"And the token lesbian couple of the neighbourhood," Rossi mumbled under his breath. Alex pinched him.

"Don't stare, dear."

"Why not? They're staring at _you_!"

"They were not!" she said and sneaked a peek in their direction. And yes, he was right. They were both eyeing her. The blonde was brazen enough to deliver a flirty wink. Alex gave them a feeble wave with one hand, and chuckled.

"Oh God. Nobody's been flirting with me for years and suddenly they're standing in line."

"I'm not surprised," he said and kissed her, right there in front of anyone who wanted to see. Alex put both hands behind his neck and kissed him back, correctly assuming this was his way of showing her off as his.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "Unlike my ex-husband, I end one relationship before I start a new one, and I don't blame the job for my actions, not even when I want to."

"I am to take that as you don't want to have a ménage á trois with the ladies across the street?"

"Tempting, but no."

"Can _I_?"

She let go of him and patted his cheek, almost hard enough for it to be a slap, but she was smiling.

"I'm not enough woman for you?"

He nodded.

"Yeah, you are. The _only_ woman for me."

"Flatter won't get you anywhere," she replied, but it came automatically. She wasn't usually one who chose feeling over thinking, emotions over intellect, but she could feel that he was serious. Yes, he had loved his former wives, and he had loved Erin - that hurt a bit, because she would never fully forgive Erin for her part in Alex's hard years, although she was strong enough to stop thinking about it - but even if he had loved them then, he loved _her_ now. It was written all over his face, in his eyes when he looked at her, in his touch… oh, _definitely_ in his touch.

"Will the truth, then?" he asked quietly.

"Mhm, the truth works," she said.

"I love you, Alex, and that is the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"I love you too, David."

* * *

 **A/N**

Phew, I managed to get them out of bed for a while, so I could catch a break. They are quite like rabbits. In heat. Who knew Blake was such a slut… well, that was unfair. Who knew my _imagination_ was such a slut, is more like it.


	13. Chapter 13

"In a town this size people are bound to cross paths with one another. They shop at the same stores, they eat at the same restaurants, work out at the same gym… the problem isn't finding something they have in common, but the opposite," Blake said and sighed. Rossi nodded.

"And we can't even be sure if the first murder is connected to the ones taking place later. It has to be a copycat, but for some reason that theory doesn't sit right with me."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Care to elaborate?"

"It's just a hunch."

"So you think Nicholas is innocent? That somebody else killed his parents in 1983, then returned to kill other couples in 2000, 2004 and 2014?" She shook her head a little. "That's a very long cooling down period."

"Our unsub might have been to jail for some other crime. It has happened before."

"Yeah… By the way, those numbers trouble me. -00, -04, -14. Coincidence?"

"Possibly. The dates of the murders differ, though. And there is nothing that indicates why the hell our unsub would pick the same house each time. I had Garcia check and double-check contractors and owners prior to those in the 80's - the house was built in the early 60's by the way - and nothing suspicious came up."

Alex let out a frustrated growl between gritted teeth. He looked up and gave her a smile.

"You're aware that you make that sound when you're really horny, aren't you?"

"I do?"

"So you weren't aware."

"Don't distract me," she muttered and he laughed out loud.

" _I_ _'_ _m_ distracting _you_? With all due respect, I'm not the one growling like a starved wolf," he said, but dutifully returned to their notes, trying to find something that stood out, some rock that hadn't been turned yet. It seemed everything had been checked out, and that they would simply have to stay here and wait for - hope for - the unsub to attack them.

 _Lay a finger on Alex and I won_ _'_ _t bother reading you your rights, I_ _'_ _ll just kill you on the spot, you son of a bitch._

Oblivious to his thoughts, Alex said:

"The rape bothers me quite a bit. It's a big step out of his MO. What changed that time?"

Dave didn't want to point her attention to it, but nor did he want her to find it out on her own and be unprepared.

"She was a brown-eyed brunette," he said in a low voice. Alex looked at him with wide eyes. Wide _brown_ eyes.

"Right. I forgot that."

 _I didn_ _'_ _t. And if he tries to_ _…_

This time she seemed to read his mind.

"I'll be fine, Dave. Don't worry about me."

But he thought she looked a bit too pale to be fine.

"I think we need a break from this," he said. "I know I do."

 _I hope he_ _'_ _s not suggesting sex_ , Alex thought. _I_ _'_ _m not in the mood right now_.

But she needn't have doubted him.

"What do you say we watch a movie? We set up the whole DVD-player and everything but we haven't watched a single movie since we moved in."

"And why is that?" she wondered out loud. He kept a straight face.

"We have been very busy."

Alex grinned and nodded. That, they had been. Still grinning, she began putting the case files away while Dave went to make some snacks. Then her gaze fell upon a photo of the only one of the four female victims that had been raped. A slender woman in her mid 40s, with rather long dark hair and very dark brown eyes looked back from the picture. They weren't so much alike that they could have been sisters, but there were still a lot of similarities, and the severity of the situation really began to sink in. There was a killer out there, and if she wasn't on her guard she could end up like this woman. She shuddered as she put the picture back into the file and put the files back into the cabinet, where they were hidden under a pile of recipe books.

She hoped they wouldn't watch a violent movie. She wasn't sure she would be able to handle that right now.

* * *

" _Home_?" she asked sceptically. "Isn't that the one about purple aliens?"

"Do you have anything against purple aliens?"

"No…" she said, trying not to smile. She didn't think they'd watch one of those kid's movies, but it honestly seemed like a relief. "I just thought we were adults, that's all."

"Says the woman I caught watching 'Spongebob Squarepants' the other day."

"Actually, as I told you then, I didn't watch it… the TV remote got stuck."

"I've heard people use that excuse after being caught watching pornos, but never cartoons. But since I know the damn thing _does_ get stuck from time to time, I'll pretend to buy your explanation this time," he graciously offered.

"Oh thank you Sir, because I really need your approval," she replied, the sarcasm nearly dripping off the words. As he chuckled, she sat down on the couch, reaching for the popcorn.

"I've heard this movie is pretty good, even if we're old relics," Dave said as he put the disc in the DVD player. "And I don't think either of us need a thriller right now."

He was right about that. Also, she didn't feel very well. She hoped this wasn't going to be a repeat of last month's suffering, but she suspected it would be. She could tell from the way her lower back throbbed, but she hoped with all her heart that she was wrong. It didn't usually get that bad twice in a row and she feared there could be something a bit more serious than just regular cramps going on. Her mother had died from cervical cancer when she was relatively young, just in her fifties. And whether Alex liked it or not, she was closing in on fifty herself.

 _Hypochondriac_ , she thought. _Nothing is wrong. Besides, it has happened before, with bad cramps two months in a row. Long ago, yes, but it_ has _happened. So stop getting yourself worked up about nothing, when you have actual threats to focus on._

"Are you okay, Alex?"

"I'm fine. Let's watch the damn movie," she said and curled up against him. He put an arm around her shoulders, almost absently, and she was surprised at how much she liked that. How natural it seemed.

 _Nothing is wrong with me and we_ _'_ _re going to catch our unsub before he can hurt anyone._

But for some reason, the thought seemed to be a lie.

* * *

 **A/N**

I know where I'm going with this, I'm just dragging it out. And I suspect that once it's finished it will need some rewriting to get all chapters to work in a flow, but one thing at a time, okay? :P


	14. Chapter 14

Later that same evening, Dave was editing the latest chapter of his book, while having a cup of coffee, when Alex came into the living room, looking pale and tired.

"I'm going to bed," she said.

"What's wrong?" he asked after consulting his wristwatch. It was only a quarter past nine; very early for Alex who was usually quite the night owl. She shrugged a little.

"Monthly business," she said. He frowned.

"It's that bad again?"

"Not _that_ bad."

He knew she was lying, it was written all over her face, from the deep lines around her eyes and mouth that suggested that she was either very tired or in pain, to her ashen complexion, to the dull look in her eyes.

"I think you should see a doctor," he said.

"Dave, if you knew what it's like to see that kind of doctor, you wouldn't want to go either. Believe me. I'm okay, I just need some rest. Good night."

"Good night," he replied and watched her walk away. Limping, rather. Gone was the feisty sex goddess, gone was the resilient FBI agent, here was just a miserable woman bent in pain. He got to his feet. "Alex, honey, wait!"

She turned around.

"I beg of you, please, see a doctor. I'm really worried about you. I've never seen you like this. And I think you've lost weight."

She smiled. It was strained, but it _was_ a smile.

"I'm not surprised, we've been somewhat physically active during the past few weeks," she reminded him. But he didn't return the smile; he was honestly worried about her.

"If you don't make an appointment yourself, I'll make one for you and I'll cuff you and drag you there if I need to," he said. Alex's eyes widened for a moment, then the playful twinkle in them made a brief appearance.

"Cuff me, huh?" she said. "That's an idea worth exploring once I feel better."

"I'm not kidding, Alex. What if something's wrong? For real, wrong."

For some reason that she couldn't explain even to herself, hearing him put her own concerns into words suddenly made her furious. She opened her mouth and, much to her own surprise, raised her usually soft voice into a shout.

"Nothing is wrong, will you just leave me alone!? You're like a band-aid!"

He stared at her, looking surprised and more than a little hurt, and she immediately wanted to take it all back, the words and the tone in which they were spoken alike.

"Sorry. I… I didn't mean to lash out, okay?"

"I don't care if you get angry with me," he said. "I want you to see a doctor so we can at least rule out the worst possibility."

' _We'. He said 'we'._

It was that very thing that made her change her mind, the thought that no matter what it was, at least she wouldn't have to deal with it alone. She sighed.

"Okay. I will."

He relaxed.

"Come here Alex," he said and opened his arms. She walked into the offered embrace and hugged him hard. He hugged her back and said patiently: "I love your stoic nature, but it's okay to be afraid sometimes. I want you to feel like you can be honest with me and share your concerns and fears as well as your joy. Love is supposed to be 'for better and for worse', isn't it?"

She was quiet. That was her usual response when she had to process something, and Dave knew that. He could respect her to the moon and back, but respecting someone was, sometimes, the same as interfering. He might not have been so worried if this had been a frequent occurrence over the years they had worked together, but as far as he could remember she had only called in sick two or three times, and one of those times it was a stomach bug that got the whole team. And while she did keep any discomfort to herself, he didn't believe she could have hidden something like this on a regular basis without either of them noticing. Not a chance.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she mumbled against his shoulder.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," he replied, and he was relieved to feel that the last of the tension seemed to leave her body with his words. "I'm just going to finish editing this chapter, and then I'll come to bed too."

She pulled loose, nodded, and gave him a quick kiss.

"I love you," she said.

"Even though I'm a band-aid?"

"Maybe because of it," she mused. "I'll call the doctor tomorrow."

"Good. And I love you too."

A faint smile tugged at her lips.

"Yes, I noticed."

He chuckled.

"Go to bed, sweetheart."

She went.

* * *

He had just sat down and tried to redirect his focus to the pages in front of him, when she stormed back into the room, with her hair flying around her face.

"The doctor!" she said. " _That_ _'_ _s_ our unsub!"

"What do you mean?"

She sat down, winced at the pain as she did, and began to explain.

"The original unsub already had mental problems and saw a psychiatrist prior to the murders, right? Well, if he suffered from hallucinations, is it that far-fetched that 'the ghost' he spoke of was a man in white scrubs? His doctor?"

"Not far-fetched at all," Dave said. His heart was beating faster, the way it always did when he felt they were onto something that could crack a case wide open. He could see the same excitement mirrored in Alex's eyes as she went on.

"And the other murders - were either of the victims seeing a therapist or psychiatrist? I think they did. And I think they did so in another town, possibly to avoid any gossip around here. Why wouldn't they? They were all well-known in the community, and wealthy, at that. You don't want it to get out that you have mental issues, no matter how innocent. I should know, I didn't even tell my husband I saw a therapist after the Amerithrax case."

"You went through that whole ordeal by yourself?" he asked. He needed to know, that would explain a lot about her.

"Was there any other way?" she asked in return and shrugged. "James just told me to get over it. My co-workers recoiled as if associating with me would drag them down as well. We don't speak about those things in my family. And I didn't really have any friends outside of the job. But I did alright, that's a closed chapter now," she said, brushing it off. "Anyway, that would also explain why there was a couple living here that our unsub didn't target - they were young and still going onward and upward. Everyone we've spoken to told us they were happy, right? Themselves included."

He saw where she was going with this.

"And happy, healthy people don't seek council, why would they?"

"Exactly!"

"He must be rather old now, if he's still alive."

"He could have been very young when treating Nicholas. Maybe even fresh out of med school."

"I'll call Garcia," he said. "It will be a relief if she finds something."

* * *

"Garcia's House of Wonders, how may I make you stare in awe on this fine evening?"

"Are you still at work?"

"My dear sir, you're calling this number, aren't you?"

"Anything happened that I should know about?"

"I could ask you two the same…" she said in a sly voice, then took pity on them. "No, nothing's happened here. The others went home a couple of hours ago, I'm just updating some programs and running some server security checks. What's going on?"

"Check the doctor who treated Nicholas in the 80's and see if any of the other victims had contact with the same doctor."

Garcia began working her computer magic.

"Uh, two of them did, if that's any help."

"Which ones didn't?" Alex asked.

"The last couple."

Alex sighed. "I still like my theory."

"So do I," Dave agreed. "Could they have met somewhere else?"

"Oh yes they could, and they did. The wife worked as a specialist nurse at the same practice where this creepy Doctor Death has been at for the past sixteen years," Garcia said triumphantly. "I'm sending the information to your tablets right away."

Dave and Alex looked at each other.

"Great job," Alex said.

"Happy to help, Mrs Rossi," Garcia replied.

" _Garcia_ …" Alex growled.

"Oops."

"Mrs Rossi, huh?" Dave said with a little smile.

"I was just, uh, that was just Garcia lingo," Garcia said, trying to save the situation. "You know, since you're posing as married and all."

"She's not Mrs Rossi," Dave said. "At least not yet. And that is all I have to say on the matter, Penelope," he added, sounding as if he warned her about pushing it.

"Okay sir," she promptly said. "I'll be here for another hour if you need me. Garcia out."

"You scared her," Alex accused him.

"I think you were scarier. That growling, it's freakin' terrifying." he said and went to get the tablets.

"I've never heard you complain about that before," she called back over her shoulder, smiling a little. Then a particularly painful cramp shot through her stomach and she had to hold her breath until it subsided.

 _No, this is not as it should be_ , she thought, and forced herself to stop thinking about it. She had more pressing issues at the moment, and she was fairly certain that her body would hold together for a bit longer.

"Do you want to go to bed? I can compile the information and then we can look at it in the morning. I doubt doctor…" he checked the tablet, "… Harold Brady, is available for house calls right now."

"Well, I don't know about that, he certainly called _this_ house a whole bunch of times," she replied. "No, I'm okay. I want to see what we can make of this guy."

He watched her closely to see if she really meant that, and decided that she did.

"Alright. Let's get to work."

* * *

 **A/N**

We have a breakthrough. ^^ Did ya'll see that one coming?

I just need to tie up the loose ends because I really sprinkled leads all over the place so I would have something to grasp if my first hunch didn't play out. And now I'm stuck with too many leads in different directions instead. Oh well. Coincidences do happen, right?

Still more to come, of course. :D

Also, virtual chocolate chip cookies to those who get the unsub's name references. :P


	15. Chapter 15

"This is definitely our guy," Dave said an hour later, as they had looked through the information Garcia had found and sent them. "He has been reported for trying to manipulate mentally ill patients several times, but all charges have been dropped."

"And look at this," Alex filled in. "He must be pretty good at his job when he's not experimenting with homemade mind control. He treated one of the brothers who own the Gilded Cage restaurant. He was indeed schizophrenic, and suffered from a psychosis that rendered him more or less catatonic. Apparently doctor Brady managed to treat him with some new drug that got him out of the ward within a year. I don't exactly struggle to see the other brother being so grateful he'd allow doctor Brady free meals at their restaurant, do you?"

"Another connection we've been unable to find," Dave agreed. As he looked in her direction, he shook his head. "Are you sure you're okay, Alex?"

She stopped massaging her abdomen and tried to smile.

"Yeah, I'm good."

She kept reading and her eyes narrowed.

"Uh-huh. He got married in 1985. Stayed married until 1999, when his wife filed for divorce."

"That could be his stressor."

"Mm, if she left, she deprived him of a 'normal' life, maybe he simply couldn't keep the façade up any longer. And so he went back to the place where he had felt at his most in control…"

"… and when he found that one of the residents was a patient of his, it became a compulsion to relive that feeling of power and control, at the same location, over and over. But only with those who were already vulnerable."

"Yes…" Alex mumbled. "Oh. And look at his wife," she said and pointed to the photo of a 40 something brunette with dark eyes.

"She looks a lot like the rape victim," Dave said, not adding ' _and you_ _'_ , but he thought it. "So that's the reason, she was a substitute for his wife."

Alex shifted in the couch and put down the tablet. She grabbed one of the cushions, pressing it against her stomach as a makeshift heating pad. The stabbing cramps were just getting worse, and she knew she was bleeding profusely, which definitely was unusual for her.

"And…" Dave began and turned towards her, then he fell silent. Alex wasn't just pale anymore, she was white. "Honey, that's it, I'm taking you to the ER right now."

"I'm fine," Alex said, but it was just empty words. She wasn't even in the same universe as 'fine'.

"No, you are not fine, and we _are_ going," he said as he stood up, quickly gathered the files and put them back in their hiding place, where he also put their tablets. Alex sat still; she was afraid that the slightest move would make her throw up.

"I'm going to back up the car as close to the door as I can so you won't have to walk very far. Okay?"

"Okay."

This immediate acceptance from her made him terrified. If Alex couldn't keep up her tough mask at all, it had to be bad. Really bad.

 _Please God don_ _'_ _t make me lose her_ , he prayed as he rushed out to get the car.

Alex meanwhile measured the distance from the couch to the front door and wondered if she would be able to walk that far. The way she felt, she doubted it, and she was beyond grateful when Dave came back inside and, very gently, helped her stand. He put one arm around her waist and draped one of her arms around his own neck, leading him to half-carry her rather than just steady her. She suspected he would have flat out lifted her up and carried her if he hadn't been so concerned about hurting her even worse by doing so.

* * *

Once seated in the car, Alex turned to face him. She swallowed.

"David, I'm afraid."

 _So am I_ , he thought.

"You'll be fine. Just hang in there, okay?"

"My mother died of cancer. She was only fifty-six. I don't want to die, Dave," she said and fought to keep the rising tears at bay. "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die."

Alex hoped he was right, but with the pain going from horrible to unbearable, she wasn't sure she believed him. And watching her in such pain, Dave wasn't sure he believed himself.

* * *

At the ER, the doctors took one look at Alex and whisked her away, leaving Dave in the waiting room where he alternated between pacing back and forth, drinking disgusting coffee, and bugging the receptionist for more information, which she of course couldn't give. At one point, he heard a woman cry out in pain somewhere down the hall, and he froze at the sound. It probably wasn't Alex, but he couldn't be sure. He had never heard her scream in pain. He hoped he wasn't hearing that right now either.

He put the coffee down and resumed his pacing.

* * *

"Mr Moore?"

He whipped his head up. Damn, he hated this undercover thing. In his distress he had almost given Alex's real name to the doctors. Perhaps he should have, that would have forced an end to this charade, but he hadn't yet okayed it with Hotch.

"Any news on my wife? Is she okay?"

"She's going to be just fine," the female doctor said reassuringly. "It was an ovarian cyst that ruptured. It's not uncommon, but it requires medical attention to avoid complications. We're going to make a biopsy, but it looks like a benign cyst. They're very, very common."

"Her mother died of cancer."

"So she told us. We recommend that she get regular checkups, but there is nothing that indicates cancer."

"Can I see her?"

"Of course. She's heavily medicated, but she's awake. We're keeping her overnight, as standard procedure, but if nothing unexpected comes up, she can go home tomorrow."

 _Thank you God._

* * *

"This is embarrassing," Alex said when he came into her hospital room. "Of all the reasons to end up in the hospital…"

"Never mind that," he said, almost harshly, but he felt incredibly relieved. The doctor's words had soothed his mind, but to actually see Alex soothed his _heart_. She looked much better already. Part of it was the medication, of course, which was much stronger than what she had been taken at home. But part was relief, plain and simple. It wasn't a scary secret any longer, it was out in the open and it was being dealt with. And it wasn't a death sentence.

He sat down on the chair next to her bed and took her hand in his.

"David, are you crying?"

He realised that she was right. He nodded and wiped his eyes with his free hand. The other still held onto hers.

"I thought I was going to lose you there for a while," he said. "You can't leave me, Alex."

A soft smile curved her lips upwards. "I'm not going anywhere." She sighed. "Except maybe home."

"Oh no, you're not leaving the hospital tonight," he objected and had to smile when he saw Alex actually pouting at this information. "And sulking won't help, so I suggest you make yourself comfortable and get some sleep. I'm staying here with you."

"You should call Hotch and tell him about the unsub, so they can take him into custody," Alex said.

"Alright, I'll do that right now, but then I expect you to be asleep when I get back in, okay?" he replied, sounding slightly exasperated. Alex smiled in response.

"I'm not making any promises."

"I know. You're full of surprises. Next time you decide to surprise me, please do so in a less dramatic way, will you?"

She laughed a little at this, which soothed his nerves even more.

* * *

Five minutes later he returned.

"I've informed Hotch, and I'm pleased to tell you that we are able to go back to our real identities as soon as they have the unsub in custody."

"Thank God. You know, I don't think I could ever do the civilian life."

"Does that mean I won't get a housewife, but a wife working away from home?"

"What…?" she blinked. "Oh, was that a clumsy proposal I just heard?"

"Don't worry, you'll get a better one once we're back in D.C. Consider this more of a heads up, so you can let me down easy before I make a fool out of myself."

She smiled and gestured for him to come closer.

"I'll eagerly await the real proposal. I don't think I can go very long without being your wife, but I'd prefer to be it as myself."

"And I prefer to ask you as myself, so no arguments there," he said and gave her a gentle kiss that she responded to almost greedily. "Easy honey, you're high on drugs and I don't want to take advantage," he chuckled as he pulled back.

"Thank you," she said. "For being there. For taking care of me. Don't make a habit out of it, though, I'm not that fragile."

"I promise to only take care of you when you need it," he said and thought _that would make an excellent wedding vow._ "Now get some rest."

She nodded in agreement; she was actually getting sleepy, from the pain, the fear and the medication alike. She knew it would have been kinder of her to tell him to get home and sleep rather than forcing him to sleep in a chair, but she couldn't bring herself to allow him out of her sight. For the first time in very long someone had been there for her, someone other than herself. She didn't want to be left to her own company just yet.

There had been no tears when she parted ways with James, and she had prided herself with being so strong she didn't need to shed tears. Now she realised that it had been because there were no emotions left between them. They were strangers who had once been close. Whatever had been between them hadn't died, it had merely slipped away and neither of them had noticed. Some lines from an ABBA song came to mind:

 _Standing calmly at the crossroads, no desire to run_

 _There's no hurry anymore, when all is said and done_

She glanced at Dave, who was almost asleep in his uncomfortable visitor's chair, and was reminded of another pair of lines from the very same song.

 _In our lives, we have walked some strange and lonely treks_

 _Slightly worn, but dignified, and not too old for sex._

She smiled. It would seem life did not end at fifty after all.

* * *

 **A/N**

Awww you guys spoil me rotten with your sweet reviews and messages! Thank you so much! I'm sorry this chapter took some time to finish, unexpected family stuff came up - good ones, so I've been celebrating. :D

Cookie answer: I mixed the names of two serial killers; Harold Shipman and Ian Brady. ^^ It wasn't more complicated than that, but I thought Ted Dahmer or Jeffrey Bundy would be a bit too obvious. :P

I still have some more in store for them, good and bad, so stick around… I aim on finishing this before October. Oh, and reading through it now I find several inconsistencies, like those notes? Yeah, apparently my unsub didn't leave any notes after all. I completely forgot that part. I wasn't going to elaborate on the case at all, damnit. :P


	16. Chapter 16

The next morning, Rossi woke up from an, oddly enough, deep sleep and saw Alex out of bed and getting ready. She glanced at him over her shoulder as she buttoned up her blouse and said;

"Good morning. I was beginning to wonder if you needed resuscitation. How can you sleep like that in a chair anyway?"

He slowly got up and stretched. He felt sore all over, but he wasn't going to admit that.

"Old army skills," he replied. Alex seemed amused as she began working on her hair instead. She quickly gave up and simply tied it back in a ponytail.

"I look like a mess," she said, disapproving of her reflection in the mirror.

"Oh, cut yourself some slack. Last night you thought you were going to die," he said. "Besides, I happen to think that you're beautiful no matter what."

She turned around.

"Nice try."

"I thought you said the other day that 'nice' meant 'foolish'," he joked and sighed when she looked back at him. "That's precisely the way you meant it, huh?"

"You are so clever," she said.

"But you are. Beautiful, I mean. Even when you're asleep, snoring and drooling."

"I know that I snore, but I do not drool," she objected. He only grinned in response. "Oh come on, please tell me I don't!"

"Just a little. And it's kind of cute, really. It's not so much drooling, it's more like you're sucking at your own lip."

"Will you please stop telling me all embarrassing things I do without being aware? It's unfair, especially since I've been watching you sleep for the past twenty minutes and you sleep like the dead. Not a sound, not a movement. Even the nurse who came in and woke me wondered if she should check your vitals."

"And you mean to imply that's _not_ embarrassing?" he replied and walked up to her, put his arms around her from behind and kissed the back of her neck. A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm still sore, but I feel much better." She grabbed her purse. "Let's go."

"You're not even going to eat your breakfast?"

Alex all but gave him the evil eye.

"Hospital breakfast? No thank you. But we can stop at a coffee shop or something on our way back. Come on."

He stretched again and shook his head.

"You're feeling _a lot_ better today, aren't you?" he said.

"Worlds apart," she agreed. "It helps that I got a new dose of painkillers on an empty stomach, I'm a little high."

"Alex," he sighed. "Okay, you need to eat, and if you're not going to eat that," he pointed to the tray, "we might as well get out of here."

"Thank you," she said and walked ahead of him out of the room as if she couldn't leave the hospital fast enough. Not that he could blame her.

* * *

Just as they stopped outside a coffee shop, Rossi's cell phone rang. It was Hotch.

"How is Blake?"

"Hungry and doped on painkillers."

Alex snatched the cell from him.

"Give me that. This is Blake."

"It's Hotch. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. It wasn't anything serious. Is our unsub brought into custody yet?"

"Yes."

"Is he talking?"

"Depends on your definition of 'talking'. He confessed to all the murders, including that in 1983, but he won't elaborate. It doesn't matter though, local police found enough evidence in his home to tie him to the murders. You did a good job, both of you, and you're free to return to D.C and go back to your real identities. As for your relationship, the team is buzzing with curiosity, but it's up to you how much, when, and _if_ you want to tell them."

"Thank you, Hotch. Does Cruz know?"

Rossi shot her a worried glance.

"He does. Protocol forced me to bring it up when we thought you would be unable to carry out the assignment. But there is no need for concern. He laughed out loud and said he'd seen that coming for months. I can't say I disagree."

"Will we be in trouble?" After Amerithrax, Alex had lived in constant fear of getting into trouble at work, but she realised that she didn't care as much any more. There were more important things than work.

"Not as long as you can keep your hands to yourself while working a case," Hotch replied in a rather dry tone, and Alex blushed.

"Good to know," she replied. And then, just before he hung up, she said; "How did any of you know before we did?"

"We're profilers."

"I conveniently forgot that," she sighed, ended the call and turned to Dave. "Apparently, Cruz only laughed and said he'd seen it coming, so I guess that means our jobs are safe, at least. And Brady is in custody, he has confessed but won't give any further information or a motive."

"He's a psychopath, that's the only motive he needs," Dave said. Alex nodded solemnly, but before she could add something wise to the conversation, Rossi's stomach rumbled as if to remind them both that food was of the essence, conversation was not.

"Thank God my body isn't the only one to do embarrassing things," Alex remarked and ducked when he tossed a crumpled paper napkin at her. She picked it up and tossed it right back at him, her eyes glittering with mischief which took thirty years off her face. He nearly popped the question right then and there, but he had promised her a good proposal and he had to at least have a ring. The wedding band she had carried when she was still married to James had been plain gold, and he couldn't picture Alex with an impractical luxurious ring like those his previous wives liked. Still he wanted to supersede James. Maybe it was a petty guy thing, a showdown of manliness, but he didn't care.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she asked with laughter in her voice.

"I'm trying to determine whether you're a white or red gold type of woman," he said.

"Well," she said. "I like both. But if this is about wedding bands, I don't care if it's made of plastic as long as the husband is genuine," she said, winked at him and got out of the car. He followed suit and neither noticed who took the initiative, but suddenly they found themselves walking hand in hand across the parking lot.

"I want to tell the Devlans about our real identities," Alex suddenly said. "I'd hate it if they thought we just up and left for no reason."

"That's funny," Dave replied. "I was just thinking the exact same thing."

She turned to look at him.

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. I liked those people. It's a good thing to see happy families for once. We usually only see people in distress, I think it's a good reminder of why we do what we do. To keep families like the Devlans safe."

"Make sure they get to stay happy."

"Exactly."

She squeezed his hand. "You make _me_ happy."

"That feeling is mutual, _bella_."

* * *

 **A/N**

I needed a pointless fluff/bickering chapter, so I wrote a pointless fluff/bickering chapter. Given that I wasn't going to write anything today, I think that's a pretty good thing all in all. ^^


	17. Chapter 17

After a pleasantly unhealthy breakfast, they headed back to the house they had both started to call home, to pack the most important things - case files and personal belongings. Furniture and the likes would be gathered by someone appointed by the Bureau. It had, after all, just been a façade. Still, Alex felt a sting of sadness about leaving. It may have started out as a stage setup, but it had turned into more of a home than the house where she had lived the past twenty years. She supposed she would be moving in with Dave, but they hadn't discussed it yet. She let out a quick laughter and shook her head.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking. We're assuming things but we haven't actually brought them up for discussion, have we?"

"What, for example?"

"Where will we live? I assume I will move in with you, but I can hardly just show up with a suitcase without invitation, can I?"

He placed both hands on her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes.

"You may live anywhere you wish. I don't plan on putting you on a leash. But as for invitation, you hardly need one to stay with me. I was hoping you would want to, but I know solitude is important to you."

"It used to be," she said quietly. "I'm not so sure that applies to me any longer, though."

"And besides, we're both adults and we've lived on our own for quite some time, I think we can handle either scenario."

She nodded. And this was the best part about falling in love later in life - you had yourself a little bit more figured out. She leaned in and kissed him and felt his hand ruffling her hair. God, it felt so good.

"There are certain other things as well…" he said.

"Mhm… wild oats that I should know about? Alimony to my predecessors?"

"Actually, no on both accounts."

"I don't care either way."

"It's about Rusty."

"David, I have been at your place before. I have already met your dog."

"Right. I know you're not much of a pet person…"

"Have I ever said that out loud? I love pets. A bit too much actually. If I were to give in to my immediate impulse of cuddling every single furry animal I run into, it'll probably ruin my composed image, so I have to restrain myself. That's what you've been seeing."

"Then you are an amazing actress."

She bit her lip to keep from smiling, but couldn't.

"No, I'm not, I just happen to have one hell of an impulse-control."

"I certainly noticed _that_ over the past few weeks…" he replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, it's _your_ fault it's deteriorating," she deadpanned and gave him another kiss. "What about Rusty? Would he be terribly opposed to getting a stepmother?"

"Actually I was more worried about you being opposed to becoming one, so I guess that's all well and good, then. I love you, Alex. I really do."

She smiled.

"You know, if I wasn't still in a bit of pain I would take you to the bedroom right now, but I'm not sure my body would agree with that decision."

"Well…" he said. "We could always pretend we're teenagers and just make out."

"I haven't done that in, what, thirty years or so. Just making out, clothes on, no sex."

"Me neither."

She looked pleased.

"Let's go and see if we're still good at it."

"Who said anything about being good at it?" he replied. Alex smiled.

"If you aren't, I'll teach you."

"Ooh, that's confident."

No teaching was necessary, however… though it took quite a bit of effort from both sides to keep it from going any further.

* * *

Some time later, they were ready to leave. Dave loaded the last suitcase into the back of the car while Alex locked the front door.

"It is Saturday, do you want to take a chance that the Devlans are at home? I think I have their address," he asked.

"We could always try," she replied and tossed the keys over to him. "You drive."

"I get to drive? Oh, I'm touched."

"Yeah, less talking, more driving, or I'll take them back."

She yanked the passenger's seat door open and stepped in.

"Call them up and see if they're home," he said, and Alex obeyed. After a brief conversation she hung up and nodded.

"Yep. We can come by."

"You okay?"

"I'm a bit nervous, actually," she admitted. "I know we didn't do anything wrong, but I still feel bad about, I don't know, deceiving innocent people. Are they ever going to trust authorities again? Or just their own neighbours, will they even trust them?"

"I don't know, honey. But trust is earned, and we didn't know them well enough that they should have trusted us."

"Intellectually, I agree. Emotionally…" she sighed. "Well, let's just say I won't blame them if they throw us out by force."

"Same here."

* * *

Though they were both apprehensive, it turned out they didn't have to be. There was surprise, even shock, in the family's response, but no hard feelings. They were simply not the kind of people who reacted with hostility.

"FBI? Are you serious?"

"Yes. We investigated the Laurel Street murders undercover," Alex said.

"Did you… did you get the guy?" Mrs Devlan asked, sounding shy and curious at the same time. Meanwhile, the kids looked at the agents with big eyes - nothing in their protected suburban childhood had ever been as interesting before.

"Yes. No confrontation necessary, thank God."

"So what are your real names? Are you allowed to reveal them now that you have the killer? I take it you are, or you wouldn't have told us this in the first place."

"Yes, I'm David Rossi, and this is Alex Blake."

"So you're not married? Wow. You certainly fooled us."

"Well… we're not married… yet."

They exchanged the kind of lovestruck gaze that told the truth more openly than any words could.

"Wow. So you fell in love while working a FBI murder case? That's… like something out of a movie."

"Yes, it is. Well, we should be going. We have a long drive back to D.C. We just wanted to tell the truth. We felt bad about tricking you to get leads."

"Also," Alex added, "we wanted to give these to your kids." She took out the DVD movies they had gotten. "Neither of us have kids, so…"

"That is really sweet of you," Mrs Devlan said. "In fact, they were just complaining that they don't have any movies to watch. Kids, what do you say?"

"Thank you," both kids said in unison, still staring at the agents like they were something out of a movie themselves. Dave took out his badge.

"Yeah, we're not kidding. Pretty neat, huh?"

"Do you carry guns too?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, but we can't let you hold those," Alex said. The boy rolled his eyes.

"Not a chance. Mom and dad told us that you can't trust a gun. Even when they're not loaded, they can still be loaded."

The parents looked a bit embarrassed at having this stance on things revealed to two armed FBI agents, but Alex set their mind at ease.

"That is true, and it's a good thing to keep in mind."

Rossi nodded.

* * *

As they left, they overheard the girl saying to her brother;

"FBI agents, that's even cooler than ghosts."

Alex caught Dave's eye and winked.

"You hear that, agent Rossi? We're cooler than ghosts."

"Was there ever any doubt?"

"Not to me."

"Smart parents and smart kids," he mused.

"Yes. I liked their view on guns, if more people had that opinion there would be less spree killings and much less accidents. However, I'm afraid the daughter won't stick to it."

"How so?"

"She said earlier that she wanted to be a cop. And there is no doubt in my mind that she has now set her goal on the FBI instead."

"How could you tell?"

"Because she was 12-year-old me."

"Ouch."

"Mhm."

* * *

Before going home, they went to the BAU to return the case files. Garcia met them - and if that was by accident, Rossi thought, then he was a garden gnome - outside the elevators.

"Hello, my lovelies. So you're finally back."

"Yes, Garcia, the rumours are true," Rossi said, knowing that she was bursting for the speculations to be confirmed. He tried to look stern, but he couldn't keep a straight face, especially not when he accidentally looked at Alex.

"Eeeek! Yes! Oh you are the most adorable couple…!" she squealed and embraced them both in a hug. Alex blinked, still not entirely comfortable with sudden affection - unless provided by a certain Italian, of course - but then she returned the hug. Garcia let go of them and then gently pushed Rossi to the side so she could face Blake.

"Tell me, Lovely Linguist Lady, how did it start? What made you realise he's the one?"

Alex licked her lips and looked over Garcia's shoulder at her lover.

"Well… it started with the drapes…"

* * *

 **A/N**

UGH, I had a bout of writer's block trying to get this chapter finished, so I apologise for its unbearable clunkiness. Next chapter will be the proposal, I swear!

Also, I kind of wrote an "improvised bachelorette party" chapter, but that derailed so badly I won't include it in this fic. I may post it as a standalone piece once I get this fic done, though. :)


	18. Chapter 18

"So, you ended up with Blake. The one woman I thought would be immune to you," Morgan joked as he and Rossi were alone. "Tell me, man, how did you manage that?"

"I'm not telling you that, you might try and steal her from me."

Morgan chuckled.

"She's not my type."

"Too old for you?"

"Too serious."

"You'd be surprised," Rossi replied and thought about the afternoon they had watched children's movies. Not that he was going to reveal it to Derek; that was a private moment that he didn't want to share with anyone other than his wife-to-be.

"So have you popped the question yet? Don't look so surprised man, you're working with profilers, we saw it coming."

"No. I promised her a good proposal, but I can't even decide what kind of ring I should get her. I don't want to go overboard…"

"…but you still want to get her something more extravagant than James did, huh? Knock him down a few notches, am I right?"

"Down to a T," he said. "I know it's dumb…"

"Hey, I know how you're feeling, I would feel the same thing. My point is that I doubt it matters to Blake. You promised her a good proposal, you say, but what does that mean to you?"

"I was thinking a candle lit dinner at an expensive restaurant…" he started.

"Okay. I guess I can see that. But is it _Blake_? You know that I don't know her very well, so I may be way out of bounds here, but I think you would make a big mistake if you start wooing her after the same recipe that you wooed your other wives. I'm sorry to have to tell you this man, but those were trophy wives. If you let Blake think for even a moment that she's joining the ranks of trophy wives, she's going to run for dear life. Hold back a little, okay? Take her out to that restaurant _after_ you propose, to celebrate. But don't do it there. Do it somewhere meaningful."

"When did you get so wise?" Rossi muttered. Morgan grinned.

"I learned from the best, okay?" he patted Rossi's shoulder hard. "Go out there and find a ring, and don't wait much longer or she'll think you're playing her just the way you played the rest of them."

It was that thought that got him going. If Alex thought she had just been a pastime, he would lose her forever.

* * *

The next day, he had canvassed the entire D.C for jewellery stores - he had even visited some up to three times - and eventually settled for a deceivingly simple white gold diamond ring. The gemstones were worked into the ring instead of jutting out, making it smooth to the touch, and lessened the risk of it getting stuck. He had once seen a young female agent wearing one of those bragworthy engagement rings getting it stuck when she reached for her gun. She survived, but the unsub shot her twice. That was never going to happen to Alex, not if he had anything to say about it.

The question was, where would he ask her? The extravagant places he had considered didn't at all "seem very Blake", as Morgan had put it. For a moment he considered taking her to the Library of Congress and propose to her there - that seemed more like Blake - but it didn't seem to _mean_ much, apart from being a nod to her interests.

When he came into work, he met Hotch outside his office.

"Do we have a case?"

"Not today. We're just going through your undercover files and then you'll get the chance to catch up on paperwork and other things you have put off."

"Things I have put off, huh?"

"I meant the general 'you'," Hotch replied and his face was as unreadable as always, but then he patted his friend's shoulder. "I never saw you like this with any of your exes. You really do love Alex, don't you?"

"I'm crazy about her. Hotch, will you do me a favour? Call in a roundtable anyway."

"Get everybody gathered?" Hotch saw where he was going with this. "Are you sure?"

"I am."

"Okay."

* * *

When Alex sat down for the roundtable discussion, she was a bit disappointed. She had hoped they could have had a few days back in D.C before having to rush off to another case, but she wasn't going to complain. Perhaps it would be a good thing to get back into their regular - or _irregular_ \- routines as fast as possible.

Dave entered the room last, and she looked up and smiled at him.

"Alex," he said, capturing her eyes with his. "I couldn't decide where to do this, but then I decided to do it right where I first saw you."

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when he stepped up to her, and then went down on one knee, not breaking eye contact for a moment. Someone made a squeaking sound in the background, and in the back of her mind Alex registered it as Garcia, but she wasn't interested in anyone or anything other than what was unfolding right before her. Dave produced a small box from his jacket pocket and held it out.

"I know neither of us regret the lives we've lived in the past, because that's what made us who we are today. But I know I would regret the rest of my life if I didn't get to spend it with you. So, Alex, will you marry me?"

If she had been twenty years younger she would have cried. Okay, maybe only ten. Oh, fine, maybe her eyes did water a little bit even at this age. She reached out for his hands and pulled him up from the floor, as she stood up herself.

"Yes," she breathed. "Of course I will."

She placed a soft kiss upon his lips. It was gentle, almost chaste, but underneath there was something passionate and almost provocative. A reflection of her very nature, in fact, a nature David Rossi was grateful that he had gotten a glimpse of in the first place.

As he put the ring on her finger, she could no longer hold the tears back. One look at her fiancé, and she realised that neither could he.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he replied and cleared his throat and turned to the team. "I hope you will all come to the wedding, whenever that will be. I may have to discuss the date with my fiancée first."

"Awwww congratulations you guys!" Garcia said and squeezed them into another big hug. Then JJ followed her example. The men tried a more controlled approach, but it ended up being a big BAU group hug either way.

* * *

When the couple left work that afternoon, Alex looked down at her ring for the hundredth time, amazed at how beautiful - yet stylish - it was.

"Do you like it?" Dave murmured close to her ear.

"I love it. It's perfect. It's like wearing starlight," she said, hearing just how sappy and romantic she sounded, but she didn't care. She _felt_ sappy and romantic, and to be completely honest, the thought of 'keeping her hands to herself while working a case' didn't even seem like an option right now. She wanted to pull him up on top of her right here, right in the car, right in the parking house at Quantico. And maybe that wasn't within the realm of 'sappy and romantic', but…

"Good, because for you I would capture the light of every star in the sky."

She chuckled a little and wiped away a tear, trying to be serious.

"That's scientifically impossible, you know."

"Hush, I'm being romantic here. Don't ruin that by sounding like Reid."

Alex had to hide her face into his shirt to keep from laughing out loud. Dave put both arms around her and held her tight, sending his thanks to a higher power that he was the one who got to hold this woman in his arms.

"Come on," he said softly as he put the gear in drive. "Let's go home and get ready. We have dinner reservations."

"I'm glad you proposed here," she said as she put on her seat belt. "Being accepted into the BAU was the only goal I had after the Amerithrax case, I just wanted to prove to myself and everyone else that I was good enough to work with the best. I don't think you have any idea how important this place is to me."

He smiled and put one hand over hers.

"I think I do."

* * *

 **A/N**

As I had Rossi mentioning, it really was a struggle to find where the proposal should take place. Then, given how hard Blake struggled to get to the BAU, and how welcomed she was into the team after what I can only imagine being years of more or less concealed bullying, I decided that right there would probably be the most significant place for her. Not overly sugary, but with some substance.

The WEDDING, however… I have a feeling there won't be any expenses saved there… ^^


	19. Chapter 19

The night before the wedding, neither of them could sleep. Alex had asked if they should go by tradition and sleep this last night in separate rooms, but Dave had declined with the motivation that in his experience, the bad luck had come anyway. He wanted to try a different approach with his last wife. Alex felt more smug than she probably should at being called his 'last wife'.

Just as she mentally went through things for tomorrow - not that she had to, Dave had staff that was more than competent to deal with practical details, and the entire team, as well as Emily Prentiss who was in the States, had volunteered to help out - but still, Dave muttered into her shoulder;

"Just out of curiosity, what did you guys do on your bachelorette party?"

"We, um, went out and had a lot of drinks."

"Yeah, I saw the bill."

"I can pay you back," she said, a little unsettled. She could, it would leave a hole in her paycheck, but she could. But Dave only chuckled.

"Don't worry about the money, Alex. I mean it. What you spent on an all-night for four was less than my third wife spent on one shopping spree, and those were weekly occurrences. At best. I'm just curious what you did? Did you have fun?"

Alex frowned.

"I think so."

"You _think_ so?"

"I don't remember much."

He chuckled again and pulled her even tighter into his embrace.

"You were that drunk?"

"I was that drunk," she admitted. "How about you? How was Vegas?"

"I can't tell you. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas."

"It was that lousy, huh?" she giggled and felt his deep sigh ruffle her hair.

"You have no idea."

"Returning to the subject of money…" she sounded hesitant. This was an uncomfortable topic to bring up, but it should have been brought up sooner. Still, she was pleased that she was with her back to him; she wasn't sure she could have brought this topic up and look him in the face.

"Yes?" he urged her on.

"I'm willing to sign a prenup if you want me to."

"I don't want you to," he said simply.

"I'm not after your money," she clarified. She would hate it if people thought she was a golddigger.

"I know you aren't, and I don't want you to think more about this. If it ever goes as far as divorce, I think two reasonable adult FBI profilers are able to discuss and negotiate. But I don't think it will ever come to that, do you?"

"No. I intend for this to last."

"So do I."

They lay in silence for a while until Dave changed subject;

"Are you sure it's okay with you that we have the wedding here at home?"

"Absolutely. I don't need the religious part of it. I know that is more important to you."

"Father Michaels is a friend of mine, he's happy to come over and have the ceremony here, so it's not a problem."

Alex let out a pleased sigh.

"I can't believe a work-related undercover assignment ended up in marriage. And here I was starting to think I would stay alone for the rest of my life. Probably with seventy-two cats."

Dave stroke her arm.

"Do you _want_ cats?"

"Maybe not seventy-two of them," she said and he laughed.

"Can I ask something more serious? Did you ever regret not having children?"

She considered.

"Not really. I'm far too invested in my career and in myself. I wouldn't have made a good mother."

"I think Spencer disagrees."

"Well, unless you suggest we adopt him…" she teased. "No, I'm content with life as it is. I never felt the need for children to make my life complete." She turned around so she was face to face him. "I'm going to sound very sentimental right now, so just bear with me, okay? _You_ _'_ _re_ the one who makes my life complete. And I wouldn't want to have it any other way. You light up my every day in a way I never thought possible."

He smiled and kissed her.

"Done being sentimental? If it gets any cheesier I'm going to have to get a bottle of red wine and some crackers to go with it."

"This coming from a man who promised to catch the light from every star in the sky for me?" she said and playfully bumped her forehead against his. "Yeah, I'm done for now. Let's get some sleep. Goodnight." She gave him a quick kiss and rolled over.

"Jesus, just like that?" he said. Alex smiled in the dark.

"Yep. I need to save my energy for my wedding night."

"Now why didn't I think about that…" he mumbled and put an arm on her hip. A possessive hand, but possessive in all the right ways. With Dave there was nothing of what had made her and James fall apart. This was attraction, yes, but mixed with respect - and self-respect. She knew that neither one of them would agree to things that didn't feel right just to please the other, and both would respect it. It was a whole new level of trust and understanding, and just as she drifted off to sleep, she wondered why they had five broken marriages between them when it seemed they were built for marriage. But she supposed it was all about finding the right person.

* * *

It was six am when the entire BAU team - plus Emily - broke into the bedroom.

"Are you two still asleep? Get up! We're going to get Alex ready!" Emily shouted and was agreed with by Rusty, who barked excitedly and jumped into bed. He knew perfectly well he wasn't supposed to be in the bed, but sometimes a dog just can't be expected to obey commands, can he?

"How the hell did you get past security?" Rossi groaned as he sat up and rubbed his face, while Rusty did his best to get in between his hands and his face.

"First off, we know them after all the times we've been here," JJ explained and looked at Morgan, who continued;

"Also, almost half a dozen FBI badges tends to get everyone to listen," he continued as Rossi stood. Rusty whined, disappointed, and turned to his stepmom instead. But she was even more boring, she just groaned and rolled over on the side, still entangled in the sheets. The tail-waving canine made an effort to kiss her good morning, but she pushed him away.

"Ugh, go kiss daddy instead," she muttered, and went back to sleep, as if there was nothing unusual with a party of six persons to come and visit in her bedroom before dawn. Emily walked up to her side of the bed, crouched down and simply stared at her. When Alex, feeling the glare through instincts rather than anything else, reluctantly opened her eyes, Emily grinned.

"If you're going to marry Prince Charming today, I expect Sleeping Beauty to get a move on so her Fairy Godmothers can do the transformation work."

Alex frowned and sat up.

"Ugh."

"Come on, Princess. Rise and shine. We brought coffee."

Alex immediately brightened.

"Coffee?"

JJ laughed.

"And that is our eloquent linguist before she's been properly fuelled up," she remarked in good humour.

"Very amusing," Alex replied and reached for her robe. "What are you doing here this early? Do you expect it to take that many hours to put on my makeup and do my hair?"

JJ, Emily and Garcia, who were all more savvy when it came to makeup than Alex was, nodded solemnly, and Alex had to laugh.

"What, you think I'm that ugly?"

"No, but you're going to cry and mess up the makeup at least once," Emily said matter-of-factly, and Alex sighed.

"Fine. But nobody touches my face until I've had my coffee."

Garcia turned to JJ.

"She doesn't remember she needs to be dressed first? Oh wow. For someone so ladylike she really doesn't have the hang of girly details."

"I heard that," Alex said. "I'm not sure if I should take it as a compliment or an insult."

"Tell me when you decide, so I know if I should bow or run," Garcia replied quickly and Alex shook her head and laughed.

* * *

"Is everyone here?" Emily asked.

"Except for father and brother of the bride," JJ replied. "I hope they will show up, but I'm not sure. Alex wasn't on good terms with her dad last time they spoke, apparently."

"Speaking of the bride, where is she? Don't tell me she pulled a Julia Roberts and ran? She does seem a bit on edge."

"Nope, she's with Penelope, trying to sort out the 'something old, something new'-thing," JJ said as the walked over there to see if they could be of any assistance.

"… okay, so you have something old…?"

"My mother's pearls."

"Something new?"

"The dress."

JJ paused to admire the dress. It was deceivingly simple, cut low enough to leave both shoulders bare. It showed enough cleavage to be interesting, but not so much it was in any way indecent, and the pearls complimented the dress as well as her skin tone. Her hair was done up in a complicated but tasteful hairdo that really brought out the shifting shades of brown, from coppery red to almost black.

"Wow," Emily said in a low voice next to JJ. "She looks incredible."

JJ nodded.

"Something borrowed?" Garcia pushed on.

Alex looked at JJ and smiled.

"I borrowed JJ's veil."

"Something blue? I don't see anything blue!"

"There is something blue," Alex assured her.

"I don't see it."

"You're not supposed to see it, it's reserved for my husband."

When Garcia looked confused, Alex sighed a little, crooked a finger into her dress cleavage and gently pulled the fabric aside enough to reveal a glimpse of a very light blue silk bra.

"Blue enough?" she said. Garcia blushed and looked away.

"Sorry."

Alex just smiled. She wondered if she had just succeeded in the impossible; shocking Penelope Garcia. But no… surprising her, probably. Shocking her? No.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah. Um, did you by any chance happen to notice if my family has shown up?"

"No. I'm sorry, Alex," Emily said and stroke her shoulder.

"It's okay. DC is far from Kansas City, and Scott is probably working a case he can't get away from," she said, trying to assure them it was no big deal, but it hurt. She had distanced herself from her father after her mother died; not because she wanted to but because there were too many memories that she couldn't deal with. And with Scott, her kid brother, it was even more complicated. She didn't blame them for not returning her calls. At least that's what she kept telling herself, but it still hurt. Then she looked around and realised that she was surrounded by family as it was. This team was family.

* * *

Hotch looked at his long-time friend, who was pacing back and forth in the library, and couldn't hold back an uncharacteristic smile.

"Dave, you're nervous. I can't remember the last time I saw you nervous."

"Nervous? I'm not nervous, I'm _terrified_! I've fucked up three marriages, I really don't want to fuck this up too! I love Alex, I never want to do her wrong."

"Do you think she'd let you?"

"No. Hotch, tell me the truth. I'm an idiot, aren't I?"

"For marrying the woman you love? Absolutely. You should stay married to your job and keep her as the mistress, that way the spark never dies."

Dave chuckled.

"A tasteless joke from Aaron Hotchner! Amazing. Besides, the thing is that now that Alex and I get married we'll at least have the same mistress. Work."

"I don't think you should run that logic by her," Hotch said and straightened his friend's bowtie. "There."

Spencer came in, looking odd but handsome in a tuxedo. His hair was still out of place though, but that was almost a relief to Rossi. At least there were some things that would never change. Behind him came Derek Morgan, who, dressed up in a tuxedo, looked like one of those fictional James Bond-characters.

 _We work every day with these guys, these good-looking, intelligent and kind men, and out of these choices, Alex picked me_ , Dave thought and straightened his back, feeling a smug grin sneak into his face. _She picked_ me _, and now I_ _'_ _m going to marry her. How is that not a fucking miracle?_

"Not so terrified anymore?" Hotch asked, noticing the change in his demeanour.

"We can't just stand here, I have a wife to marry," he said and walked off towards the reception room. The other three looked at each other.

"Guess he isn't," Reid eventually said, shrugged and followed. Morgan chuckled.

"Guess not."

* * *

Alex headed for the reception room, flanked by JJ and Emily, when all of a sudden she stopped mid-step and her breath caught in her throat. Coming through the front door right that moment were her father and brother, both dressed up, both looking sheepish and embarrassed.

"Dad," she whispered. JJ and Emily watched as she crossed the room and walked straight into the arms of her remaining family.

"There goes the makeup," Emily concluded. JJ put an arm around Emily's shoulders and said in a slightly choked voice;

"Mine too."

Alex returned to her colleagues and friends with her father and brother in tow.

"This is my father, Damon Miller, this is my brother Scott. And this is my colleague Jennifer Jareau…"

"JJ," JJ said and shook hands with them.

"…and my friend Emily Prentiss."

Everyone exchanged pleasantries when all of a sudden Garcia came from another room with the wedding bouquet, saw the scene and connected the dots immediately.

"Oh my God, you came!"

"Hello Penelope," Damon Miller said and shook her hand. "Thank you for your persistence."

"Persistence?" Alex looked suspicious. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

"I knew you weren't on good terms, and when I found out that your stubborn dad didn't return your calls I decided to butt in a little. I'm sorry Alex, but you know me, I have to butt in, because that's what I do when someone I love is hurting and don't want anyone to know. Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," Alex said and blinked back tears in the hopes of saving her makeup for a little while longer. "Thank you, Penelope." She embraced the younger woman briefly but warmly, and it was Garcia's turn to blink away a tear. Alex had never been particularly warm to her before. It was unexpected and very welcome.

Then Garcia turned to say hello to Alex's brother.

"Hi, I'm Penelope Garcia."

"Uhm… I'm… I'm Scott Garcia, eh, _Miller_. Scott Miller." He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Alex noticed and leaned in to whisper in his ear;

"I read you like an open book, little brother. Treat her with respect or you'll answer to your big sister, okay?"

He nodded without taking his eyes off Garcia, who seemed to momentarily have lost her sass. Or ability to speak all in all, actually.

"How come you didn't tell me your brother is hotness on a stick," she hissed as Scott shook hands with JJ and Emily.

"Because he's my brother…?" Alex said with a look of slight disgust on her face. "He's a great guy, he really is, but please don't refer to him as 'hotness on a stick' again." She shuddered, and Garcia laughed.

"Okay, I won't. But he's really something, isn't he?"

"Penelope, on the verge," Alex warned. Garcia looked surprised.

" _That_ _'_ _s_ on the verge? I think that's just the dirty imagination of a blushing bride who cannot think about anything but her honeymoon, am I wrong?"

"Yes, you're wrong! Oh my God," Alex shook her head.

"Be honest. You just want this ceremony to be over and done with so you can escape together, Mr Rossi and Mrs Rossi the 4th."

"You really want to rub it in that I'm number four, don't you?" Alex said and rolled her eyes. "Did you know that Dave is my husband number three?"

Garcia's eyes bulged out and her mouth dropped open. Alex snickered. She had finally shocked Penelope Garcia.

"Stop right there, you she-wolf in sheep's clothing. I want details."

"I was married for 48 hours when I was 18. It was one of those stupid, drunken teenage impulses and my dad had it annulled. That's all. Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm just trying to imagine you as a reckless teenager. I can't."

Damon overheard this and chuckled.

"Lexi was a reckless kid if ever there was one. I think it was because she wanted to be one of the boys. You know, growing up as a middle child and the only girl, that was pretty tough on her, but she was pretty tough back."

"Dad," Alex said, blushing a little. "That's very long ago."

"She was always the one climbing the highest tree. How old were you when you fell down from that tree house and broke your shoulder?"

"Ten," Alex clipped.

"She didn't say a word. Scotty thought she had died, but she didn't cry at all."

"I cried when mom came to the emergency room to pick me up," Alex said quietly. "I just didn't want you, or Scott or Danny, to see it."

Damon's voice softened.

"I know. And I wish to God I could have offered you a home environment where you didn't have to keep your pain bottled up to seem thick-skinned. I hoped you would outgrow that need to be tougher than you were - you were always tough enough the way you are. Instead you married a guy who was never there for you, and became a federal agent who, for years, went under the nickname 'Bulletproof Blake'."

"Dad. I did alright. And David is not like James… and definitely not like Tom," Alex said and smiled. "And I'm not a kid anymore."

She glanced sideways at Scott and Garcia, who were in the middle of a rather dazed conversation.

"I think you might have to redirect your concerns to Scott. He seems rather smitten with Garcia, and believe me, she is going to keep him busy."

Damon laughed and hugged his daughter.

"I'll get right on it as soon as I have walked my little girl down the aisle, okay? Come on."

* * *

When Alex Blake walked down the aisle, accompanied by her father, David Rossi almost broke down in tears. Which each step that brought her closer to him, he felt that he could never let her go. He would do anything to keep the love of this woman, and make her feel more loved than she had ever felt in her life.

"Hi Alex," he said as he took her hand. She was trembling a little, but that was okay. So was he.

"Hi, David."

They were so focused on looking into each other's eyes that they barely heard a word that the priest spoke.

"… for as long as you both shall live?"

Dave momentarily snapped back to reality long enough to say "I do." Alex's eyes sparkled. He could make an educated guess concerning what she was thinking about from the pink blush that spread from her cheeks, down her neck, to her collarbone, to…

 _Hm, I wonder just how deep that goes_ , he thought to himself. _I_ _'_ _d definitely like to find out._

Alex seemed to read his mind and squirmed a little, as if subconsciously trying to wriggle out of her dress. She bit her lip and tried not to smile when she caught herself doing it. She too nearly missed her cue, and her "I do" came out sounding breathless and husky, as if she was already in the bedroom for the wedding night.

"I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Alex raised her eyebrows at Dave. It was a challenge.

 _How deep a kiss dare you give me in front of everyone we know?_

 _Deepest kiss you ever had._

He moved in and gently put his arms around her waist. Alex responded by putting both her arms around his neck and looking him straight in the eyes, giving him a slight nod. Then they poured all their love and all the lost years into this one kiss, to mark to the world that that even in the darkest of environments, there could be love, there _would_ be love, and that is how we find the strength to fight the darkness.

And this time, they both knew it was meant to last.

* * *

 **A/N**

Okay, first off I really hope that was worth the wait! I had a bout of writer's block for several days, pretty much all I could write was shopping lists and Facebook statuses. I couldn't even bear to look at this fic. Even now I feel a bit like I overdid it with cheesiness, but what the hell, in a world where violence seems to be King I think I'm entitled to writing some sap just to stay sane.

Second, yes, I know JJ didn't have a veil for her wedding, but I wanted Alex to borrow something from someone on the team, so I made that up. We just have to live with it. :P

Third, remember that episode "Bully", when the team meets Blake's family? There is definitely a little spark between Garcia and Scott, so I decided to go there. ^^

Okay… I'm actually going to miss this universe a little, because I thought they fit very well together, it was as if they had been waiting for it. But all good things come to an end, and I think it's the right place to leave them, right as they seal their love. ^^

Thank you everyone for staying with me through this journey (this is actually the longest _finished_ fic I've ever written, so I almost feel like champagne is in order. LOL), I don't think I would have had the strength to work with it all the way if it hadn't been for your encouragement! Thank you!


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